


Andy's ASOIAF Kinktober Collection

by pandaspots



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Edge Play, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Female Jon Snow, Gender Identity, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Married Sex, Multi, Other, Soulmates, bloodraven and bittersteel's absolutely healthy sibling relationship -n, but it's the only one that has rhaenys the sister of aegon i in it, excuse me sir there's feelings in my porn, i guess the threesome tag belongs there even if it's not really there, i polluted my google algorithm for day 13 yall's welcome, if u are starting to see a pattern by now, it's all shameless smut yall, kink/prompt on chapter titles, some healthy targ siblingship, the author's opinions on a game that looks cool and has cool lore but unfortunately is an fps, ur gut feeling is absolutely right, usage of a kink's concept but keeping it historical-ish, when u aim for creepy and ends up on feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-09 10:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 22,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20852141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandaspots/pseuds/pandaspots
Summary: Maybe the real kinktober was the friend callouts we get along the way.Kinktober fics of assorted ships with my favorite ASOIAF peeps.





	1. Jon Snow/Smalljon; Deepthroating

**Author's Note:**

> short and sweet little smuts for yall  
don't yell at me abt my kinkmeme fills i know more than u about my shames
> 
> first chapter is part of a larger AU that.......... i'm yet to post....... sorry if it looks odd, but the bare bones: modern AU, rhaegar has three kids in this order: girl, boy and "dragon", aka in which jon's called Aemon/Aemma and is genderfluid, and their siblings challenge him/her to do the eight. she starts with smalljon umber.  
(i swear to fuck i'm gonna post the first chapter of this but i'm aiming at three per region and i wanna finish writing the northern 'bondings' first, do a chapter per kingdom/region)
> 
> ANYWAY ENJOY

Aemma was trying to keep it together, but it was a failing endeavor.

"C'mon, babe, I know you can take it, you've been so good before," Jon said, gripping her hair and pulling her towards his cock, which wasn't a small one by any means.

"Jon…" she trailed off, excited and terrified about putting Jon Umber's cock all the way down her throat.

"You're the one telling me not to hold back," he said, smiling, and Aemma's cock twitched back to life from the oblivion it's been fucked into.

"Fuck my mouth then, big boy," was what she said before opening up. Not for the first time, she regretted her eagerness as soon as the words left her mouth, because Smalljon Umber was a big,  _ big boy _ and his cock easily made her mouth stretch to the brink of uncomfortable, and her jaw was going to hurt later, but there was still some alcohol in her veins, fuelling her desire and she was caught again in that place where she made bad decisions for the sake of instant gratification (surely her mother was glad that it wasn't shade of the evening).

"Pretty, pretty princess, you look so hot right now, Aemma…" he said, and Aemma pushed him off, with a lewd pop.

"Think of how hot it'll be when I'm choking on it," she teased, licking the head and vaguely aware her voice came out gruffier and deeper than her usual Aemma voice; she had to give it to the Smalljon, making her stop putting any effort because she's eager for dick isn't a common feat.

It did help him that his normal Aemon voice didn't put him off.

Jon pushed in again, her hair fisted in his hand as she tried to relax her throat. Still, it was nice of Jon not to shove himself in all the way, as Aemma was sure that one would earn her a trip to the hospital and a PR Nightmare lecture from her parents. Just enough in that it was hitting the back of her throat and making her eyes cross and her mouth drool in the effort not to gag and choke too much, which was proving a challenge given that Jon was fucking into her mouth with happy abandon.

"Mmm, Aemma, you're so good and pretty…" Jon mumbled, as he pushed his cock into her mouth and making her eyes water and her throat swallow his cock like a blissed out cunt. "Oh, your mouth is as tight as your pretty ass, did you know? And just as good to fuck, oh gods, I don't know where I want to spill, babe. On your throat… on your face… or if I should push you off face down into the mattress and fuck your little ass full of my seed again…"

That last one had her moaning, or attempting to, only succeeding in gagging, hard, while she tried to breathe. She hadn't taken a full breath in quite a while, and her head felt cottony in the way she often felt whenever she let Aegon do this to her, but in less time than normal. Fortunately, it seemed all Jon wanted was a reaction at all as confirmation of her desires, and with one last, forceful shove in, he pulled out, and quickly (gods, his strength and arms) manhandled her dizzy self around, her back to him, grabbed himself a good handle on her hair, and pushed her down with one hand, face onto the mattress while the other squirted cool lube onto her abused ass.

She hissed at the feeling, enjoying it, until Jon’s cock pushed in and with every centimeter in, a bit of her wits went out.

"Hmm, Jon, just do it, put your big cock in me and fill me up like a slut, big boy," she babbled, then added, "ruin me for any other cock," on impulse.

He pushed her face down on the mattress harder, thrusting into her with such ferocity she was fairly sure walking was going to be a far-fetched fantasy tomorrow, but right now she had an assful of cock, and that alone was enough to make her spill right into her hair, with the impulse of every thrust. Her face was scraping on the sheets, the only thing holding her ass up was Jon’s arm, and she knew she should tell him to stop, but Aemma felt a sick pleasure in being used like a doll, so treasured but at the same time just a toy to break.

"I'm your fuckdoll, ain't I?" She asked, dazed. "You're gonna fuck me whether I want to or not, right, big boy?" She hoped she sounded as happy about the prospect as she felt.

That Aemon was a prince was a minor fact against the weight that was the Smalljon's cock in her ass, rhythm stuttering at her words.


	2. Jon Snow/Aegon VI; begging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back with more surprisingly well typed fanfic from 2AM this morning for yall
> 
> this one's set in an au from my kinkmeme collection (hm. i see a _pattern_ here).  
Summary: jon's boyfriend is an asshole but he loves him anyway. probably.

"I can't hear you, babe," came Egg's voice from a general place behind him. His cock was just…  _ there _ , inside him, not moving while his hands were tied to the headboard, and Jon was already sticking his ass as far back as he could go, practically sat on the other man's lap, whining pathetically at the absolute  _ maniac _ he called a boyfriend. "C'mon, Jon, I know you can speak."

"Gods, Egg--" he started, and Aegon gave a small, weak stroke to his cock, which was still painfully hard.

"The gods have nothing to do with this, love. Now, you were supposed to tell me what you needed me to do, didn't you?"

Jon had no idea things would've gotten like this when he said in the afternoon, after Aegon’s last shift as Aunt Allyria's underling, that it was kind of sexy when he made him beg, but he was  _ joking _ then and referring to  _ popcorn _ . Then, when Aegon tied him to the headboard, he thought this was all the new things his boyfriend wanted to try, but seeing as his will was breaking, his legs shaking and his  _ fucking boyfriend _ didn't move a single thrust since they started, it was safe to say that the mild bondage was just a side bonus.

"Still can't hear you, Jon. How am I supposed to do anything if you're not telling me?" He could hear the smirk, infuriating and smug and he wanted to punch his boyfriend in the teeth then kiss his bloody mouth better.

"I-- just fuck me, Egg!" He pleaded, at the end of his wits.

"Mm-hmm, but how, babe? I'm not sure how you want it," he said but allowed a little thrust in, and a single, shallow, weak swaying of hips never felt so heavenly.

"You're a f--fuck!-- a fucking sadist, did you know?" Jon asked, and Aegon simply draped across his back, humming in agreement. "I like it plenty when you just throw me in the bed and either fuck or ride me into oblivion, no need to do this."

"But it  _ is _ hot when you beg for it, love," Aegon explained, breathing down Jon's neck blissfully.

"Gods, just move that cock and make me  _ scream _ already, you goddamn monster, I'm going to cry at this rate," he caved in, fingers digging into the sheets, cock dripping onto them so impressively he would be surprised if he had anything to spill when he finally came.

"Oh,  _ finally _ ," his boyfriend breathed out, standing on his knees and knocking Jon forward, from splayed back into hunched at the headboard onto his arms, cock going in and out at a punishing pace, as if  _ Aegon _ was the one edged for near on twenty minutes.

He was fucked so hard he actually cried in relief, screaming out in pleasure, then because Aegon knocked him into the headboard bodily as he spilled forcefully inside him.

"I'm sorry," he said, after taking a moment to catch his breath. "Did that hurt?"

"No," Jon muttered, oddly tuckered out. "Why am I so gods damned tired, though, did I even come?"

He let himself be guided down, only for his boyfriend, the love of his life, the man who swore he loved him to the ends of the earth and back, to lay him on a veritable fucking  _ puddle _ of his own jizz.

"Judging by the squelch, I'd wager you did," Aegon informed him cheerfully, and Jon found it in him to shove him off and into the spill puddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading, and thanks for putting up with my endless aus (also i literally wrote this one end first. pls appreciate that joke)
> 
> also, as i said previously, u can enter a ship of ur liking in the roulette of ship choosing, bc i don't have ships yet for some of the kinktober prompts, so suggestions are welcome!  
Also also, find me at @kotturstjarna in most major social medias :)


	3. Jon Snow/Satin; edge play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day three, i chose edge play.
> 
> Jon gets a hand in his pants whether he wants to or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the theme builds up.  
also i fucked myself up writing this, so like, READ WITH CARE  
tw for non/dubcon

Jon was supposed to go from the bar straight home, but… he got sidetracked.

There was a hand in his mouth and another inside his pants, and he could feel the other man’s cock hard on his ass. The man’s breath curled hot around his neck, and the one time he managed to turn his head a little, he saw black ringlets of hair, and that was all he would remember later.

“You’ll be good, won’t you,” the man whispered in Jon’s ear, sending shivers down his spine as the hand in his pants found his half-hard cock and tugged at it, languidly, teasing.

Jon struggled weakly, the shots he’d taken at the bar leaving him uncoordinated enough to not be able to shake off his assailant.

“N-no," was all he managed, as the other man continued to press him against the wall of the alley, hand fisting over Jon's cock and moving slowly as the man ground his clothed, hard cock on Jon's ass. It shouldn't make him excited, having some guy's hands in his pants, and he felt terrible at his body's reaction. He had a boyfriend waiting at home, and yet here he was, legs spreading on reflex as he got forcibly masturbated against a dirty alley wall like a cheap whore.

"Hmm, for someone who's saying no, this baby here is very hot and hard, huh?" The man whispered again, rough and hot, grinding faster into him.

"I--" he started but there wasn't a single excuse he could come up with for that except that he was just like a common whore, spreading his legs to anyone willing. The thought alone had him leaking harder.

"Don't fight it, sweet cheeks, you know you want this," the man said, the hand on Jon's mouth slipping down to grasp at his throat, tilting Jon's head and licking at his jaw. "You taste as good as your ass feels… I wonder if this," he tugged at Jon's cock, "would taste as sweet…"

"No, please." He shuffled, trying to break away from the hold, but he was too drunk. The other man just chuckled at his struggling, though, and pressed him harder against the dirty, spray painted wall, face first and ground hard against his ass, clearly enjoying it.

“What did I say, honey? You’re enjoying it, your cock’s so hard and wet for this, so don’t fight it,” the man said, drawing a low whimper from Jon with a twist of his hand, pumping slowly, in contrast with how he was thrusting his hips into Jon’s ass almost frantically. “Be good and I’ll even make it better for you,” he offered, and Jon felt dirty, not just from the alley, but from his words.

The man behind him let go of his cock, and a part of Jon that he wanted out of him mourned the lack of contact, until he heard a zipper open, cold air hitting his dick when the man pulled him fully out of his boxers. When the man resumed his torturous pace, Jon’s eyes stung with tears, but he refused to cry.

“Mm, your ass would feel so good around my cock, don’t you think?” the man asked, and Jon cried out in drunken distress. The stranger pressed the hand on his throat in, and any further noise Jon wanted to make died in his throat. “Don’t worry, if I wanted your ass I’d have dragged you to a bathroom stall while we were in the bar.” That didn’t reassure Jon in the least, even taking in consideration the situation he was in, but he knew better than voice anything at this point. “Do you want to come, sweetling?” A stroke to his cock brought his thoughts to a halt again. “Of course you want, your pretty little cock is leaking everywhere.”

To Jon’s embarrassment, it didn’t even take that long until he came all over the other man’s hand. He was too into his head to notice if the man came too. When he came to his wits again, he was alone in the alley, with his dick out, breathing heavily with his forehead on the wall.

He heard some rustling from the street end of the alley, and quickly tucked himself in again, zipping his pants and his coat up to mask the spunk stains that were left in his clothes. He walked fast, but at some point, he started noticing a head of black curls heading in the same direction as him. He tried to keep his cool, and not run.

The black-haired man followed him all the way to his house, in the nicer part of the residential zone of the city. When Jon’s key was turning on the door, Jon was bodily pressed to his door by the other man.

“Missed me, sweetling?”

“For fuck’s sake, Satin,” Jon laughed, shaking his head. “You could’ve walked me home like a normal person after that, you know?”

“Hmm, don’t know, Jon, could I?” Satin rested his chin on Jon’s shoulder, chest to his back, and Jon noticed he was still hard.

“You didn’t come, did you?”

“That was your fantasy, babe, and as cute as your little acting was, that’s not really my cup of tea. You, however, looked like you were having a ball there.”

“Well, then,” Jon turned the knob, and then faced his boyfriend, smirking. “Why don’t you come in and I can make you a nice little something?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for coming to my banging jon party i guess, i swear i know more asoiaf ships than jon-centric ones, and they're coming. idk when but they are
> 
> find me on tumblr/twitter @kotturstjarna
> 
> feel free to suggest ships! i'm taking ship submissions to the 'will andy ever write this' roulette! shoot ur ship my way (anything from ASOIAF universe except for dunk and egg bc i haven't,,,,,,,,,,,,,, finished them yet,,,,,,,,,,,,,) and i'll see what I can do owo


	4. Aegon/Aemon Blackfyre; mirror sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they liked looking at each other because it was like looking in a mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no one said u couldn't interpret these things creatively
> 
> also mneiai suggested i go with twins for this (my knee-jerk reaction was to have theon jerking it while admiring himself in the mirror), and i looked the blackfyre twins up and went 'these boys are two halves of a whole regina george' and if u ask yes i did write the entirety of these 263 words on oct 3. hell y e a.
> 
> pls enjoy this short wannabe trabble.

They pulled off each other’s clothes, that’s how they started it, every time.

To be truthful, it wasn’t always what it is now; being twins, they always did everything together. They pulled their sisters’ hairs together, threw rocks at other kids from the school’s rooftop together, locked Daemon and his little friend in the locker together.

Aegon had surmised that the only next, logical step was that one day, after pulling each other’s clothes off for bed, that they started sleeping together. It has rather… evolved through the years, as they’ve gotten older, they’ve included other people once or twice, but the main thing has always been looking at each other as they came, always together.

They didn’t always need words between them. That was the good thing about being with someone you’ve known for literally every second of your life. When they do speak, though, it was always that much more exciting.

"Gods above, Aems," he said, breathing heavily, barely able to pull in air because the sight of his twin sucking on his cock knocked the breath right out of him. "Fuck, you're like a naughty mirror image sucking like that."

Aemon pulled out, smirking smugly even as there was drool dripping from his chin onto his very hard cock.

"I keep imagining that if I look at you the way you look at me, it's no wonder we come so fucking hard on each other's cocks," the twin said, smiling lewdly as he put the head on his smirking lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank yall for reading, im sorry there's more words in the notes than in the fic :p
> 
> find me on tumblr and twitter: @kotturstjarna


	5. Alys Karstark/Sigorn of Thenn; HAPPY BDAY TO ME THIS IS A BREEDING KINK-ish FIC NOW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SO i hated every single prompt for today. HOWEVER it's my birthday so i make the damn rules for 24h, so i decided fuck the prompt list.
> 
> Alys and Sigorn have some baby-making fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy b-day to me, happy b-day to me, im not gonna write today's prompts bc they suck, happy b-day to me
> 
> pls enjoy

“Hmm, so this is what gets the big, bad wildling’s blood running,” Alys said, gleefully. “You really can’t wait until your little wife is all big with your baby, can you?”

Sigorn was really,  _ really _ fucked. He didn’t mean to react the way he did when Alys said he needed to fill her right up with his seed, but he  _ did _ , and though he doesn’t regret it one minute (truly, his wife was a gift from the Old Gods themselves), he was starting to think that maybe he should.

“Alys, don’t,” he started, but it was hard (ha) to talk when he had a lapful of naked woman, was naked himself, and it seemed that his really weird desires weren’t completely, outright shunned.

“Don’t what, husband?” she asked, still smiling in an unnerving way. “It’s a wife’s duty to take care of all of her husband’s needs south of the wall,” she continued, and Sigorn had to take deep breaths so as not to take his wife too roughly. He understood that he was her first man, and he didn’t want to hurt her.

“Alys more than just wife. Alys is gift from Gods," he managed in the flowery language of the southern folk, and it seemed to make his little wife happy, because her smile softened, and she leaned in to kiss him.

"I would still do my duty to you," she replied. "It is rather exciting, isn’t it? Thinking that what we're about to do will result in me carrying your baby. I'll be so big with your child, and you'd look at me and know that you did that. You put that baby in my belly."

Sigorn inhaled sharply, trying  _ not _ to think about it, and failing.

"Wife needs control her mouth," he growled, rolling them over on the bed and looming over Alys, who looked unbothered. "I want not do something I regret later."

"And I want you to  _ breed me like a bitch _ , if I wasn't being clear," she bit back, and looking into her eyes, Sigorn saw it; the barely restrained want in his wife's eyes, the way her breath was hitching at odd times, like she was thinking about that and it just made her more excited.

“You be sore when day comes,” he warned her.

“If you do this right, I’ll be sore for nine moons, love,” she joked, winding her arms around his neck. “A headstart never hurt anyone, I don’t think.”

“Get you used for when Alys big with next Magnar,” he muttered in her ear, and she giggled breathily, licking her lips at the thought.

“Hmmm, yes, and maybe even a spare, if you fuck me good.”

Sigorn thought that, were he a wolf, he’d be howling right now. But he was a man, so he decided the best course of action would be to take the lead of a wolf, so to speak. He turned Alys again, manhandling her onto all fours, and pushing into her cunt that way, with barely any resistance. He pulled her up, trying to keep her up while her legs were still spread wide, hands on her chest to balance her that way while he fucked shallowly into her.

“I put a baby in you now, wife. Can’t wait until Alys is big with child, and know that I put him there,” he told her against her neck, and Alys, usually so fierce and playful, melted right into him, her cunt fluttering around his cock delightfully, falling back onto the bed, mollified. He fucked her then, properly, the way he was used to, and Alys seemed to enjoy that very much, if her little mewls and moans were anything to go by.

By the time he collapsed on top of her, spent and satisfied, and  _ tired, _ she had the shape of his hands bruised on her hips, and she looked ready to pass out herself, eyes unfocused and mouth sparkling in the candle light, leaving a little trail of drool as he dragged her into a more comfortable position to sleep.

“Oh, Gods, I can’t move,” she whispered, voice a little hoarse from apparently having screamed a good part of the time. “You should fuck me like a bitch more often.”

“I should  _ breed _ you like a bitch more often,” he corrected, murmuring in her ear, from where he was laying behind her, chest to her back, and the way she whimpered was music to his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u so much for reading! pls comment +kudos if u liked, i love reading comments owo
> 
> find me on twitter/tumblr: @kotturstjarna


	6. Jon Snow/Satin; Daddy | Corset | Cock Worship | Biting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> welcome to day 6, which was written on day 5 AND 6 and now im gonna have to write day 7 and 8 on day 7 bc jonsatin has a way of grabbing me by the hair and grinding my face in feels.
> 
> things reach a breaking point real quick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i hate not having buffer!!!!! i hate that i spent two days writing this!!!!!! I DO NOT hate the way this turned out tho, enjoy

Aemon didn’t even greet the man on his doorstep properly before pulling him in for a kiss, desperate and needy.

“Someone’s worked up today,” Satin, the only prostitute Aemon has ever called in his life, joked, smiling sweetly at him.

“It was a really, really long day today,” he whispered against the other’s lips, kicking the door closed behind them and pressing Satin against the wall, who moaned very loudly.

“I can see that, babe,” Satin replied, still smiling. “Need your baby here to relax proper, huh, Jon?" He asked, sending shivers down Aemon's spine.

"My  _ sugar baby _ , if that's what you mean," Aemon joked, already feeling his tension seep away with his clothing, brushed away by the soft feeling of Satin's hands.

"That's not what you're coming to when you're balls deep and three fingers into me," Satin replied, smiling ever so sweetly as he kneeled down when pulling Aemon's pants down. "Right then you're all 'baby wants daddy's cock so bad doesn't he', making me beg for this fucking big, delicious cock of yours."

The new tension jolting through Aemon was more than welcome, especially when, on his knees like that, he can see that under the light coat he wore, Satin only had on a tight, lacy corset.

"I don't know how I lucked into such a good, slutty baby," Aemon said, voice hoarse already. "You're wearing the corset I gave you."

"And the matching panties, too," Satin finished, tugging at his own pants to reveal the strings of said underwear sitting snugly to his hipbone. "And that plug you liked so much on me that other time, since daddy sounded so upset on the phone."

Aemon keened, hips buckling forward, the head of his cock touching and pressing into Satin's mouth so wonderfully he thought he might cry. He pulled on the other's hair, softly, asking for him to get up, but Satin decided to disobey him for a change, staying right on his knees and licking at Aemon's tip in earnest, delighting in the taste of his leaking precum like it was the fine champagne Jon had in a wine cooler by the couch.

"Baby, come on, I want to fuck you properly, in bed this time…" Aemon might've said that, and might've meant it as an order, but he was always weak to the way Satin licked his cock, not even once looking at Aemon, as if Aemon's opinion on whether what he was doing being sexy was irrelevant when he could use all his attention into worshipping Aemon's dick like it was a gift from God just for Satin (and by the Gods, Aemon wanted Satin like that so much).

"I've never seen daddy's bed," Satin mused, nuzzling Aemon’s dick at the base, mouthing the words at his balls. "Is the window in your bedroom as big as the one in the living room? I love it when that same light in the other building comes on when I'm here, Jon."

Aemon shivered at the way Satin said the fake name he’s given him. They didn’t know each other’s real names, and that truly suited Aemon just fine, if just for the night.

"It's not as big, but the window goes into the ensuite," he said, pushing Satin's face into his cock one more time before tugging at it one more time. This time, Satin rose up and kissed Aemon, smiling sweetly.

"Well, I've waited long enough, and this plug isn't as big and good as daddy's big cock." He leaned into Aemon, pressing himself against Aemon's naked body.

Deep within the recesses of his mind, he knew Satin must say that to his every client, because he knew he wasn't the only person out there who got off on being told his cock was magical and the best someone has ever had, but it still felt so good to hear Satin say it, to have Satin's sweet voice calling out Aemon's fake name like a prayer, and pretend, just for the night, someone he loved loved him back the way he needed.

"You need a good fuck that bad, baby?" He pulled Satin into his arms, lifting him off the ground and letting him wrap his legs around his bare torso, feeling the other's matching erection through his pants.

"Not every guy is my daddy," Satin said, in a weird tone Aemon hadn't heard before outside of when they're fucking, when Satin was near coming onto Aemon's couch blankets.

"Good," he replied, in the same tone, pushing the door to his bedroom open so he could shove Satin into his sheets, to fuck him in the luxury and decadence he deserved to be worshipped at. "Now, let's see my baby in his new gifts, shall we?"

Satin chucked his coat and shoes off the bed, and stood up, a little thrown off by the fluffiness of the mattress, and unbuttoned his pants, biting his lower lip enticingly and turning around. Aemon was confused for a second, until Satin bent down, taking his pants with him, exposing the way the plug forced the material of the panties to bunch on one side, the little blue jewel at the flare sitting snug in between Satin’s buttcheeks prettily. He swallowed hard, and from Satin’s chuckle, he knew the other man heard it loud and clear.

“Do you like what you’re seeing, Jon? ‘Cause I’d like it a lot better if it wasn’t just a thin, plastic plug in my ass.”

“We’ve tried that before, I can’t fit my cock around the plug’s base, baby,” Aemon joked, getting on his knees and pulling Satin down on his so he could kiss the other man, pulling him back by the hair softly.

“No, but you can fit your cock  _ in _ my ass after you take out the plug.” Satin bent his back a little more, grinding his ass on to Aemon’s hardness, then hissing when Aemon bit his neck playfully. “Hmm, that kind of harsh day you had, did you? Couldn’t wait a single day until our date, could you?”

“If you knew the kind of day I’ve had, baby, you’d be ready to bite at the nearest inconvenience too,” he said, sighing at the calm he felt as more of his skin touched Satin’s.

“Your real life sounds wild, and I don’t envy you at all,” Satin replied, his tone light and unbothered as his hand reached around to remove the plug. “Though I feel obligated to say, I left a paying customer hanging just to come here, so…” he trailed off, turning around and wrapping his arms around Aemon’s neck.

“You say that as if I’m not a paying customer too,” he laughed into Satin’s neck, the rightness of his giddiness at having taken precedence over another person and the ugly head of his possessiveness and jealousy clashing. “The best one, or so I’ve been told.”

“Hmm, yes,” Satin hummed as he made Aemon lay down on his bed, “daddy’s the only one I let bite me until I’m bruised all over, after all,” he all but purred into Aemon’s skin, raising goosebumps as he aligned the tip of Aemon’s cock with his already stretched hole, breathing harder at the sensation.

“And I love that,” he said, before he could stop himself. Thankfully, Satin must’ve been used to that kind of slip of the tongue, because he barely reacted, only a hitch in his breathing and the sudden urge to kiss Aemon as responses.

“I could stop working tomorrow and live off being your whore, exclusively, and want for nothing,” was Satin’s response instead. “Daddy’s so good to me like that.”

_ I’m good like that because I’m hoping you’ll take the bait and stay with me, because I’m possessive and jealous and want you so, so much _ , he thought, but didn’t say.

“I’m as good to you as you’re to me, baby, and even then, I feel like I’m falling slightly short,” was what he said.

“Oh, you’re so mushy,” Satin joked, and whatever retort Aemon had died in his throat as Satin began moving, bouncing on his cock delightfully, smiling lewdly and looking at him through half-closed eyes. “How long until you decide to break me, Jon? A minute or two?”

Aemon all but growled, pulling on Satin’s hair roughly to make him bend down so he could bite at his neck, the other man letting out a guttural moan that echoed off the walls. Satin’s dick twitched, and his ass clenched onto Aemon’s cock, and he pushed off the bed to meet Satin’s bounce halfway.

“Gonna give you mushy, you mouthy brat,” he mouthed against Satin’s neck, both of them fully aware Satin was a year older than Aemon, because of an accident that had Aemon scrambling for a gift on Hyrkoon Prime while Satin almost screamed at him that it wasn’t necessary.

The more he bit at Satin’s skin, the more the other man seemed to undo himself on top of him, which was just fine by Aemon. He liked that. Aemon pulled Satin closer, then, still thrusting into him, sucking a big bruise on his collarbone that would take days to fade, and would be the first thing any other man would see when Satin pulled off his shirt.  _ Good. _

“Oh, stop, stop,” Satin asked, when Aemon made him bend down further. He looked at the other, confused, until he saw Satin’s hands working at the clasps of the corset Aemon had forgotten he was wearing. “The boning was making the boning dig into my bones,” he said, thinking himself so witty, and Aemon swallowed the laughter along with his mortification, his resulting expression seeming to amuse Satin more than anything.

_ Gods, I love him so much _ .

Aemon bit lightly at Satin’s arm from where it held him up beside his head, and the other man laughed a little, chucking the corset off. He noticed, vaguely, that Satin was still wearing the panties, and that he could feel the back of it against his own cock, and the wet lace against his skin in the front, and it just made him harder, looking at and feeling it.

“I lied, earlier,” Satin said, suddenly, as Aemon started thrusting again.

“About what, baby?”

“About having blown off another client.” Aemon’s breath hitched in his lungs. “I haven’t taken a client for a few months, now.”

He suddenly stopped moving, startled still by the words that came out of Satin’s mouth.

“I… what?”

“Since you said you wanted to book the fifth day of each week clear just for you, I haven’t taken another client.” Satin started moving again, bouncing gently on Aemon’s lap, clearly unbothered by the vastness of his statement and what it meant to Aemon. “Your face when you said it… It’s been haunting my dreams.”

“Can we talk about this after we’re done? I think I need my wits about it,” Aemon asked, still trying to comprehend what was going on. Clearly, he missed something.

“You… You’ll want me gone after, so I’ll… I’ll just say it right now.”

“Why would I want you gone? I never want you gone, I love you.”

He slipped. Aemon’s tongue slipped badly, and not even the beaming face Satin was giving him could stop the spiral of  _ you fucked up _ he could hear in the precise tones of his siblings.

“I know it’s just the sex talking,” Satin said, sadness slipping into his speech. “I mean, I know your name isn’t Jon. No one with the kind of money you have gives their real name to a prostitute they picked out of the street. And you know that Satin isn’t my real name. But…” He paused, leaning down, his black curls falling to one side and Aemon could see then, the fear and excitement in Satin’s eyes. “Ever since you asked me for a whole day a week, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. About how badly I want to hear you call me by my actual name.”

“Aemon,” he blurted out, unthinkingly.

“Huh?”

“My name, it’s Aemon.”

“... Jason.”

When Aemon pulled him down to kiss him, it felt like they were kissing each other for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every time i wrote the word 'daddy' i took 2d8 psychic damage in real life so like. this has been a trial.
> 
> pls comment and leave kudos i live for those <3 thank u so much for reading
> 
> find me on tumblr/twitter: @kotturstjarna


	7. Aegon I/Orys Baratheon; praise kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he was always good for his siblings. all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought id be behind in this shit thanks to yesterday assaulting me with feelings, but!!!! im not!!!!  
day 6 had praise kink jump out, and also incest but like. this is asoiaf, that's kind of like. the underlying, conjuntive tissue of the universe.

“Good boy,” was the first thing out of Orys’ mouth when Aegon closed the door to his chambers. The Aegonfort was barely more than a shed, but it had the essentials, Rhaenys had seen to it, and one of these was that Aegon’s rooms at least were made of stone. So that, when Orys was making him cry and beg, the sounds would be less.

“We’ve barely started,” was what he said in response, but his voice was strangled and there was no mistaking the bulge in his pants that he tried to adjust away.

“We’ve brought three of the seven kingdoms to heel already, brother,” Orys said, spreading his legs from where he was seated, and Aegon could see his erection from there, straining against his breeches like his was. “Four more to go, but it’s a great start, don’t you think?”

“Yes, yes,” Aegon started, and he knew he didn’t sound sure, much less like a  _ man _ of seven and twenty, in that moment he went to stand between his brother’s legs. “I don’t think that warrants any praise just yet.” He didn’t  _ think _ so, but clearly Orys had other ideas.

“Vissy seemed to agree with me, you know,” his brother started, nonchalant, pulling authoritatively on Aegon’s arm. He immediately went on his knees, eyes closing for an instant as he leaned his head onto Orys’ thigh. “Our sister was most pleased by the whole pace of the campaign; she thought we’d run into more trouble at Harrenhall than we truly did.”

“She’s happy then,” he stated, coming off a bit inquisitive and hopeful. His sister had been in a foul mood ever since they figured that the lords weren’t taking them seriously because the letters were penned in Visenya’s name; that she would be happy now was almost enough to make him moan out loud.

“She’s so very pleased, Egg,” Orys agreed, undoing his pants. “You’ve been really good, did you know?”

“Could be better,” he muttered, watching Orys smile at his words.

“My, my, Egg, aren’t you being too hard on yourself? Isn’t that my job?”

“That was terrible,” Aegon snorted out, hands deftly pulling out the lacings of Orys’ breeches to the sides. “Vissy won’t come today?”

“Vissy’s busy with Rhae,” the other said, nonchalant, as Aegon pulled his cock out and immediately started licking. “Oh, see, and you’re saying you’re not a good boy, Egg.” Orys’ hand went to Aegon’s hair, gripping tightly, and forcing his head down, onto his hard dick, until Aegon’s mouth opened up and started sucking. “Vissy said that if you’re good, you can even take your pleasure with me right now, instead of waiting for her. Will you be good, Egg?”

He didn’t know what configured as good behavior right now, but hummed his assent anyway, hoping Orys understood that he would. He needed to spill today, and not wait until Visenya found it within herself to visit him. He also needed Orys’ cock in him, right now, but knew better than to demand anything from the other man. King in the eyes of the Andals he might be, he still answered to Visenya at the end of the day. Her husband he might be, but she was still his liege lady of Dragonstone.

He would be good for his siblings, he always was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u so much for tuning in!
> 
> cash me ousside on twitter/tumblr: @kotturstjarna


	8. Aegor Rivers, Brynden Rivers; gore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short and sweet. those were words that brynden wouldn't use to describe his visit to his half-brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not the best gore i've ever written but i accept i peaked at age 22, describing in detail a complete evisceration for an AOT fanfic.

“Have you come to gloat?” Aegor asked from behind the bars. Not that with his one eye, Brynden would be able to see the impressive scowl his half-brother was putting on, but he made do with a rat’s vision nearby.

“More or less,” he answered, amused. “I’ve come to settle a grievance, though.”

“What grievances do you even have left, Brynden? You’ve betrayed your brother for that bastard, Daeron, and had your nephews killed. I’m sitting in the Black Cells and you are not.”

Brynden didn’t bother replying just yet, opting to open the cell’s bars; hearing the clanking of Aegor’s chains that bound him to the wall was satisfying enough for a little while.

“Remember when I was a stupid boy, when you and Daemon were less so?” he started, extending his awareness to every rat in the dungeons. “You were very drunk, so I don’t see why you should remember.” He paused, and Aegor yelped when a rat's tail touched his arm, bare as it was. "Said, if I was going to get in between you and Shiera, you would show me my place."

"Must've not worked," the other grumbled, shifting as a rat started eating at his clothes.

"But I did learn something that day." He urged the rats to start biting at Aegor. "I learned that even family loyalty must be earned… and Daeron’s done more to earn anyone’s trust than you or Daemon ever did.”

The screams of terror from his older half-brother as the first bite pierced through his skin was something Brynden would cherish for a long time. 

He felt it in his mind, the tiny minds of the rats as their mouths filled with bits of skin and even a little bit of blood, and sometimes even a tiny pain as Aegor’s thrashing crushed the skull of a rat. Brynden was sure the guards were listening, and he was fairly sure they also didn’t care what was done in the dungeons to traitors of the crown.

“Don’t worry, brother,” he said, moving out of the cell. “They won’t kill you. But there will be less of you to go to the wall when they’re done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading! see yall tomorrow
> 
> come bother me on tumblr and twitter @kotturstjarna


	9. Lyanna/Arthur; titfucking, lingerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 9: titfucking, lingerie  
sometimes, girls only want the 'dark' in 'tall, dark and mysterious'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> built up my buffer again hell yea
> 
> from now on i'll try to keep them short like this one for ease of management, pls enjoy

“I thought you came here to hook up with my friend,” Arthur said, breathlessly.

“Broody dude? Nah,” the girl, Lyanna, said. “Not into his whole holier than thou thing.” She pulled Arthur’s pants down, then pulled her own shirt up, and Arthur went entirely crosseyed, because he wasn’t expecting a girl who dressed like your average biker dude to be wearing… did that even classify as undergarments, considering how  _ little _ in the way of fabric and lace there was? “Like that?” she asked, smirking.

“Y-yeah,” was what he managed, voice coming out high pitched as if his last puberty years weren’t five years ago. “I-- yeah.”

_ So terribly articulated _ , a little critical voice that sounded a lot like Rhaegar tutted at him.

_ “Good,” _ she said, pushing him onto the couch in the backstage (and he wondered how in the hell did she even get backstage passes for five, really), nails digging into his skin when she clawed at his underwear, positioning herself perfectly between his legs. Arthur wasn’t even sure anymore of what was happening, but for the sake of what he  _ was _ , he’d let it slide.

He got an inkling of what was happening when Lyanna leaned in, her tits placed exactly on top of Arthur’s cock, and her hands fumbled with the band of her bra, making space for…

_ “Oh _ ,” he muttered, when his dick slotted perfectly between her tits, inside her bra. “Oh, I-- okay.” He was trying to keep it cool, but just staring at the scene unfolding by his groin was doing bad things to his brain capacity, and he was pretty sure he didn’t have a single synapse left the moment her tongue touched the tip of his cock, looking up at him with those mystifying grey eyes (whoever said purple eyes were the most beautiful eyes needed an eye check up themselves).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading and see ya tomorrow!!!


	10. Jon Snow/Rhaenys Targaryen-Martell; hair pulling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sisters are the worst human beings, aemon decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how many years will i not be able to look my sister in the eye, pls place ya bets

It started innocently enough, they figured

He just liked pulling on Rhae’s hair, because her curls were like little springs, bouncing right back up into her mane of hair, and Aemon was easily amused as a child. Rhae didn’t exactly mind either.

Then one day when he was 16, he was pulling on her hair while reading a book, not noticing he was doing anything with his hands, when Rhaenys pulled on  _ his _ curls, and the most embarrassing noise came out of his mouth, followed by his sister’s snickering, and Aemon, embarrassed, shuffling himself to hide how fast his dick stiffened up at that.

“You like that, don’t you, little brother,” she purred at him, hand on his head tangling on his curls, and he tried focusing on his book again, ignoring his sister and well aware that he had read the same line three times by now. Rhaenys tugged at his hair again. “C’mon, pay attention to me.”

He refused to. His eyes kept glued to the same line until he thought an appropriate amount of time had passed and he changed pages. His cock was unbearably hard by then, and the only difference between his face and a pit of lava at that moment was the material one of his face being organic and lava being molten rock, for all the temperature seemed to be the exact same.

“Aems, I know you’re not reading, you tap on the border of the book when you read,” Rhae said, pulling on his hair more insistently.

He groaned out loud, and thumped his forehead against the book, grinding his teeth.

“Can you please stop, Rhae, for fuck’s sake, some people have morning classes and readings to do, here.” She pulled on his hair again. “Rhae, please.” It came out more a moan than a plead, and still she didn’t let up. “I’m begging, here.”

“Hmm, it’s not fun when it’s your hair, is it?” She asked, gleefully. Then, she leaned in, mouth to his ear, to whisper. “What if I pull your hair until you come in your pants like a pre-teen?”

Aemon came in his pants like a pre-teen with a hair-trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank yall for reading and see yall tomorrow!!!! hopefully with my buffer intact, bc day 12 is being... a children's day treat.
> 
> go bother me on tumblr/twitter @kotturstjarna


	11. Elia Martell/Lyanna Stark; crossdressing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's all in the suit, oberyn would say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im horny on main for dresses and suits, and have the google algorithm to prove. pls enjoy.

“Can I have this dance, my lady,” the man Elia has been eyeing all night asked, and she was surprised to learn it wasn’t a gentleman at all, but Lyanna Stark smiling at her from under the brim of her fedora.

“Lya,” she hissed, amusedly. “What are you doing, I thought your brothers had you locked up in a tower by this point.”

“Ha,” the other woman laughed, “they wish they could.” Elia offered her hand, and Lyanna kissed it, smirking wickedly. “You look ravishing, Elia. Wish that I could do away with all the people in this party, because they’re the only thing between us and a really good time.”

Elia had dressed in the finest silks she had today, a long dress made of large panels of gauzy, almost transparent sand silk with a neckline that plunged down to slightly under her bellybutton, made only barely decent by the addition of a golden, thick chain belt and layers of gold and emerald necklaces. The same couldn’t be said for the nonexistent back, that, were it any lower, it’d sure expose the fact she wasn’t wearing underwear at all. The sleeves of the dress were basically comprised of golden chains inlaid with pearls and diamonds, with a matching fascinator sideways on Elia’s head, resting on her perfectly coiffed curls delicately and bringing out the fine brocade of the red lace against her black strands. She had dressed to impress one person only, though, and she was thoroughly glad that said person was even there to appreciate her efforts.

Lyanna herself wasn’t much behind. Elia had no idea how a woman went about having a suit so perfectly tailored and at the same time so uncompromising. The black satin lapel shined pristinely against the black cashmere of the coat itself, snug enough against the white silk shirt that it looked very well-fitted, but loose enough to mask Lyanna’s small breasts, even bound as they were. The pants were similarly suited, and her shoes shined as if she just slid off the shoe shiner’s stool. The only proper color Lyanna wore was in her northern-styled necktie, a matching orange to Elia’s dress that made the dornishwoman shiver.

“There’s something odd, though,” Elia pointed out, looking at Lyanna’s tie.

“Huh?”

“Your tie. If I remember correctly, the knots being separated means you’re not taken,” she drawled, derisive. “And as I remember, my good ser,” she continued, hands sliding up Lyanna’s torso, teasingly, and the other woman swallowed. “You are very much taken.” She pulled on the ends, bringing the knots together as Lyanna put a proprietary hand around Elia’s waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for tuning in and see yall tomorrow!
> 
> note: thanks for the ppl who suggested ships! ship suggestion is now closed :)  
note numero dos: the knot i described is a REAL kerchief knot and is used as described. it was lifted entirely from the knots ppl use to signal each other's statuses of single and looking, single and not looking (a single knot) and taken at Gaucho Tradition Center balls. it's like the handkerchief code but for straights.


	12. Jon Snow/Queen Visenya Targaryen; pet play(-ish)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jon snow had a type, and the fact this queen before him was inhumanly gorgeous was just icing on the cake really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY CHILDREN'S DAY this is late bc it's. it's children's day in brazil, i have a small son who got a matching toolbox from his grandpa and he's been far too excited abt being able to "fix" things around the apartment.  
(like im one hour late from my usual hour but STILL)
> 
> pls enjoy: Timey-Wimey Dragonstone Magic AU is inspired by one of mneiai's drabbles from their 'every targ loves jon snow' series (it's how i call it anyway, ill edit a link in later)

Stepping into the corridors of Dragonstone shouldn’t be this strange and dangerous, Jon thought, as he took a left into his explorations of the castle (Queen Daenerys had given him free reign of the island, but not leave, and with how curious about the castle he was, that suited him just fine for the time being).

As he stepped into the corner, he knew immediately something was off. For starters, there was a cream and gold dragon  _ in _ the corridor, posturing on the ledge. While he didn’t remember Viserion being this small when he met him, Viserion’s gold markings were also akin to dripping molten gold, whereas this one had little golden mittens, and the golden markings went into the very edging of its wings, like lace. The baby dragon chirped at him, burping white smoke at him, and flew off, just as a green dragon as large as Drogon went past the nearest balcony, perching on the wall roosting (so that’s what they were), and Jon watched as the most unnervingly beautiful woman he’s ever seen slid off the green dragon’s back.

Her hair was bound in a crown of liquid, braided silver, dressed in what couldn’t be anything else but armor, with a sword belted to her hips. None of this was out of the ordinary for Jon, after meeting Queen Daenerys and living with the Free Folk. What truly made him look twice, though, was how she instantly honed into him, and beckoned him closer. He went.

“You, dragonseed, are you? Help me off these plates,” she ordered, and Jon bristled a little at the tone, but the sheer authority she emanated made him clamp his mouth shut and do as he was told.

He worked in silence, which seemed to fit the dragonrider just fine, until he was done removing the leg plates. With lightning quick movement, she grasped his face, nails digging into his cheeks like claws, and stared into his eyes. He swallowed heavily, the woman’s pale lilac eyes clearly set on looking into his very soul. He remembered then Daenerys telling him that, whoever his mother was, she was clearly Valyrian in ascendancy, but he didn’t believe it until this dragonrider was all but ready to dissect his features.

“I don’t think I’ve seen any dragonseed in Dragonstone with quite your coloring and features,” she commented. “Who are you?”

“... My name is Jon Snow, my lady,” he answered, truthfully, and kicked himself for it. He had no idea where he was (maybe he did, she did just say Dragonstone), and here he was, giving his name to a complete stranger who might or might not be hostile.

“So, a bastard of the Northern Kingdom with Valyrian blood… I wonder if you’re here on orders of your king, to steal a dragon from us.” She smiled then, and Jon’s blood froze. “... There’s something else in you, that’s not purely Northern, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“I’ve only ever been in the North, and here, my lady,” he said, looking down, so he wouldn’t have to see her eyes looking at him.

“Hm, smart enough to know you’re talking to your better, but not enough to call me by my proper title.”

Jon closed his eyes, and breathed in deep, thinking, racking his brain for the history lessons Luwin hammered in his brain since he was old enough to read. The North was still a kingdom, there are dragonriders and there’s a warrior lady-- no, a warrior  _ queen _ .

“Pardon me, Queen Visenya. I’ve only just got here, in search of my mother, or whatever family I’d have here. I did not intend disrespect, Your Grace,” he said, bowing deeply, and kneeling in front of her.

“Hmph, rise, boy,” she ordered, and when Jon chanced a look at her face, she had a wicked smile on her face. “You’re pretty enough, I suppose. The Velaryon nose I expected, they  _ are _ very prolific in their dragonseeds… But… You have Aegon’s eyes.” She narrowed her own eyes at him. “How old are you, boy?”

“... Eight and ten, my queen,” he answered, and prayed to any god that would listen that Visenya Targaryen did not decide to feed him to her dragon.

“So, old enough to be my brother, not my nephew,” she snorted, smirking. “We are… very fond of our siblings, in our family,” Queen Visenya said, and Jon’s heart did a skip when she said  _ our _ , including him, and something shrivelled inside him curled up contentedly at the thought of being related to this woman, while some more of him dried up like the sands of Dorne. “We’ve never had someone with Northern blood in our beds before. I’ve heard, northmen have… unusual proclivities, is that true?”

Jon’s heart was in his throat, ready to jump out, as if he were a deer in the sights of a wolf, and not a wolf himself. But then, he mused, Queen Visenya was a  _ dragon _ , and there was none more at the top of the food chain than a dragon.

“I wouldn’t know, Your Grace, I’ve lived my whole life in the North, and been here a scarce week.” He hated how meek he sounded when he said it, but the woman’s hand had slid from his jaw to his mouth and neck, then chest, and he was suddenly very aware that Queen Visenya was exactly the kind of woman Arya and Val would make fun of him being already halfway in love with.

“Hm, and you’re in the castle? Looking at you better, you do look like you could be one of my late father’s bastards. I suppose one of the servants took one look at you, another at the looking glass and figured there’s no harm letting a little brother in. What’s another little brother, anyways,” she laughed, and it was like the pretty windchimes Queen Daenerys brought with her entourage from Essos.

“Am I free to go, Your Grace?” he asked, strained, which only seemed to add to the woman’s enjoyment.

“So soon, little Jon Snow? And I thought we were having fun,” she drawled, leaning into him, clearly enjoying the way Jon blushed and tensed up. He took a step back, and hit a wall. He was trapped against a wall, by a woman who looked closer to eating him up than letting him go.

Her mouth was on his in an instant, and he cursed himself for not having asked how fast would a body turn to charred remains under dragonfire, because he was particularly sure that if this was not some hallucination caused by volcanic fumes, that any time now, Aegon the Dragon would come in flying and burn him to cinders for daring touch his wife, even if he didn’t initiate the contact. It was likely a fast one, considering that this would be Balerion at the age he melted Harrenhall, and the flames were said to have burned bright for three days until it was cool enough to enter.

He was mortified by the noise he made when she bit his lower lip, the hand on his chest going all the way down to his aching groin, accidentally rutting into her hand.

“You sound like you need some help. Do you need big sister’s help with that?” she asked, and it  _ shouldn’t _ be as hot as it was, the word  _ sister _ shouldn’t sound as enticing as it did right that moment. If he ever came back from whatever this was, he wouldn’t be able to look Arya and Sansa in the eye for weeks, maybe moons.

“I-- how are you so certain?” he managed to say, in a small voice, as he accepted Queen Visenya’s rough handling of his body while she shoved him in what he could only surmise was the general direction of her quarters. “That I’m your… brother.”

“You remind me of Orys,” she answered, simply. “His hair is black as well, and his eyes are dark like yours, but the nose and the eyes, and the way you look when you’re trapped, they’re all like all other of my father’s dragonseeds. It’s always such fun to toy with my little bastard siblings,” she whispered into his skin as she bit at his neck lightly, making Jon shudder. “You all look so much like baby hatchlings in the shadow of a big, grown dragon, so woefully prepared, sometimes even  _ eager _ .”

Jon didn’t have the courage to name the sound he made, in case it was too pathetic to think of with some of his dignity intact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading and i'll see yall tomorrow with the _good food_
> 
> reminding ppl i am NOT taking ship requests anymore, thanks to those who submitted their ships, i have mapped out the remaining 19 days of kinktober! :)


	13. Jon Snow/Queen Rhaenys; cunnilingus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dragonblood is a tricky thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes this is a continuation of that visenya/jon one  
yes i am implying jon is aenys' dad in this  
tee hee  
e n j o y

He thought being toyed with by Queen Visenya was bad enough, but nothing prepared him to the hurricane that was Queen Rhaenys.

The woman’s mere presence seemed to demand all the attention he could spare, much like her sister, but whereas Visenya liked to keep him around because she thought he was entertaining, like he was a pet, Rhaenys had… more creative ideas of what constituted spending quality time with a long-lost sibling.

(Granted, not that Queen Visenya didn’t have creativity when it came to torturing him, but she seemed to enjoy doing things to see him squirm far more than allowing him to "serve her" as she called it.)

"Want to spill your seed in me, go ahead, little Jon," she whispered in his ear, riding him as enthusiastically as she rode Meraxes. "But you'll have to clean your mess up, afterwards."

Just the idea was so lewd that he spilled not even four thrusts later, caught by surprise at how enticing the idea of licking his own seed out of a woman's cunt was.

"Oh, we're eager, aren’t you?" She laughed, laying down on the bed, legs sprawled wide, grasping Jon's hair and gently but firmly guiding him down. "Come here, sweetling, big sister needs you." She was giggling, obviously overjoyed at getting to say that. "And if you do your job right, I might even take you to see the dragons…"

On shaky arms, Jon lifted himself off the bed, crawling where she moved him, mesmerized by the woman who clearly saw him as little more than a toy, and he couldn’t make himself care about it too much. Her cunt was already leaking out his seed, and it made his mouth water. More eagerly than he ever wanted to come across, ever, he latched onto her folds, clumsily at first from the bad angle, then shifting on his arms so he was laying on his belly, hands on Queen Rhaenys’ thighs and gripping at her skin like it was a lifeline, drinking in his own seed and the moans the goddess he was worshipping made. His tongue slipped in her slit, and Queen Rhaenys  _ keened _ ; Jon had to fight a smirk that wanted to grace his face, because he wasn’t sure if that would be warranted or not.

He licked and sucked, even  _ bit _ at the sensitive flesh, when he did it accidentally and Rhaenys’ voice shakily asked him to do it  _ again _ , her hand digging into his scalp almost painfully, and he felt a smidge of pride at being the one to do it. Was this how a dragon felt all the time? All the Targaryen Queens he’s ever met (three in total, but the point stood) have always exuded such a powerful, important and dangerous aura that having been the one to reduce one such woman to undignified writhing and whimpering was something Jon was going to hold very dear to his heart, if only because of how much he  _ enjoyed _ it.

The second he pushed a finger in, intent on pushing out every last bit of his seed (he was deeply ashamed of how flustered he got whenever either of the Conqueror’s queens called him a ‘good boy’, and he was severely rethinking his entire relationship with Ghost), Queen Rhaenys came undone, pushing her quivering cunt onto his fingers and face, hand on his hair so he couldn’t move while she ground into his eager tongue, and he had never felt more accomplished, somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading see yall tomorrow, hopefully, i got sidetracked by feels in my porn again but this time decided it was easier to rewrite than keep going so it might be... a late one tomorrow


	14. Jon Snow/Aegon VI; overstimulation, thigh fucking, uniform sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an aegon with an aemon as kingsguard is always a very intrincate affair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops im sorry this is like two hours late, i had.................. small son troubles (namely he likes my new thermos a lot and wanted to pour a lot of cups of tea for himself before bed)
> 
> my disgustingly cute problems aside, rejoice i have yall's smut ready

“Don’t make a sound, little brother,” Aegon whispered as he cornered Aemon into a small, narrow passage on the way back to the royal wing of Maegor’s Holdfast.

“Aegon, what--” he managed to gasp before Aegon’s hand covered his mouth, while the other pulled him bodily by the hips further into the crevice.

“You truly just went and joined the kingsguard to taunt me, didn’t you,” his brother said, making Aemon shudder. “You’re really going to make me watch as you stand there, all dressed up in the uniform, like the world’s most delicious candy.”

“It-- It wasn’t my  _ intention _ ,” he laughed, nervously, realizing why his brother was so put upon while his hands went inside Aemon’s pants. They’d promised Aegon wouldn’t try to goad him into forgiveness using sex, and Aegon had been good at it so far. Aemon’s faith in his brother  _ almost _ broke just then, but if Aegon wasn’t truly upset with him, well… “I’ve told you and father multiple times I would do it, it’s not  _ my _ fault neither of you believed me.”

“Maybe I should request to father that you become  _ my _ guard,” he mused, sliding the hand on Aemon’s hip into his dress pants, under his underwear, and Aemon shuddered at the touch. “So I get to see you like this all the time.”

“Hmm, Rhae made the same comment when we danced, so you’ll just have to be faster than her,” Aemon said, grinding his ass into Aegon’s hard dick, because of course his brother was enjoying this all entirely too much.

“I intend to,” Aegon whispered in his ear, and pulled Aemon’s pants down slightly so, before moving the hand on Aemon’s mouth and pulling out his cock from his pants, slotting it in between Aemon’s thighs and dragging a low-pitched moan from him. “Since I’m going to be the first to fuck you in your shiny new uniform, too.”

“Oh, sh-- Rhae’s beat you there, Egg,” he laughed, and his brother let out an appalled squeak of indignation. “She dragged me to a bathroom already.”

“Oh, so she can rightly fuck off, I get dibs on basis of being the Crown Prince,” his brother drawled, pushing his hips flush to Aemon’s ass, his cock’s weeping tip wetting the way between Aemon’s legs, slotted so perfectly it almost made him wish Aegon had been pulling inside.  _ Almost _ .

“Oh, I don’t know, she made quite a  _ compelling _ case,” he teased, biting his lower lip, jutting his ass a little more backwards so now Aegon was the one pressed up against a wall (the Red Keep really had some  _ narrow _ passages, the three of them found along the years), groaning. “You know how she looks in royal balls, and in the bathroom, with her tits out letting me fuck her against the wall, she was being  _ very _ convincing.”

“Fucking hell, she’s gonna win, ain’t she?” Aegon laughed, gruffly, putting both hands on Aemon’s hips and slowly pushing and pulling, fucking Aemon’s thighs very deliberately, sending shivers of slight frustration down Aemon’s spine; he hated it when his siblings did this. “Can’t rightly compete with Rhae being easy.”

“If you’d brought lube, you might have a chance,” Aemon huffed, dick jolting at every time Aegon’s cock brushed right past his asshole.

“Hm, I’ll just have to learn to live with it, won’t I.” One of his brother’s hands slid from his hip to his cock, pumping ever so slowly, the narrowness of the crevice not letting Aemon fuck into Aegon’s hand as he’d like for fear of knocking his brother too harshly. “Or maybe, after you’ve come on my hand, we can go to my room and I’ll let you fuck me until you can’t get it up anymore.”

Aemon’s eyes flew open (he didn’t even know he had closed them), a strangled garble coming out of his throat as he came right onto the wall. He  _ shouldn’t _ be this sensitive, not after having fucked Rhaenys barely one hour before, but there was always something… lewd and obscene about his brother, who’s a hedonist with not much practice holding back, letting him fuck him to  _ his _ content, knowing full well that Aemon’s stamina was much higher and he had much more discipline holding back thanks to Aegon and Rhaenys thinking they could just waltz into his bedroom at all hours for whatever reasons.

“Oh? So soon? What did I even say?” Aegon whispered, and he could hear the smirk in his brother’s voice. Aemon turned around, cock still half-hard and leaking a little, and grabbed his brother by the shoulder, near the neck, and kissing him roughly, his other hand going into Aegon’s silvery hair and  _ pulling _ .

His older brother moaned into the kiss, as his hands went into Aemon’s waist and pulled him closer, pushing their dicks together. Aemon broke the kiss, pulling Aegon’s greedy mouth back by his hair.

“We’re going to my rooms,” he started, and Aegon nodded, eyes wide and startled. “When we’re there, you’re going to take off  _ our _ clothes, and I’m going to fuck you until I don’t  _ want _ to anymore.”

His brother just swallowed and nodded, dazed, as he rushedly tucked himself and Aemon back into their pants.

* * *

It was barely two in the morning when Aemon lost count of how many times he’s been inside his brother.

“Aems, I know what I said, but-- oh,  _ fuck _ \-- by the Seven, can we take a time out?” Aegon pleaded, not for the first time, as Aemon pushed a finger in, lazily.

“Short of hurting you, why should I?” he murmured, the bit softly into his brother’s shoulder.

“I--  _ shit _ \-- I’m thirsty,” his brother said, weakly, even as he pushed his ass onto Aemon’s hand, making him smirk into Aegon’s skin.

“I thought you drank, and a lot, not long ago,” he mused, and Aegon choked out a laughter. He’d fucked Aegon’s mouth a little over an hour ago.

“ _ Asshole _ , I mean water. I want water.” Aegon made a move as if wanting to move away, but his arms refused to comply. “Fucking hell, Aems, can you help me instead of making everything harder?”

“I thought the point of having sex was making things harder,” he quipped back, but removed his finger, pouting. Aegon kissed the jutted out lip.

“Help me get some water, I’ve been screaming on your dick for hours now, Aems. Gotta treat a boy better if you want them begging for you everytime.”

“I don’t see you or Rhae complaining much.”

As Aemon got up to grab two glasses of water from his bedside table (Aegon had a point once in a while), he heard the rustling of his brother getting up (or trying) on his bed. He ignored as the rustling became more pointed and rushed, filling the glasses up more pointedly than the shuffling.

His heart skipped several beats when he turned, and only experience kept him holding the glasses.

Aegon had somehow managed to crawl to the edge of the bed, and pull up Aemon’s dress uniform from the ground, and all the rustling he heard was Aegon putting on the coat.

“How do I look, little brother?”

Aemon was at a lack for words, so he just pushed the second glass into Aegon’s hands, and turned around to drink his without much addling of his wits, because he thought he had fucked all the horniness out of him already, but Aegon had found one last shred, it seemed.

It was like his siblings’ superpower, really.

“Are you done with drinking your water?” he asked, and hoped to fuck Aegon had finished, his hand darting to the bottle of lube that was half empty already.

“... yes?”

He didn’t need much more, jumping on Aegon, pinning his hands up with one while the other manhandled Aegon’s ass onto his thighs, and squirting a generous amount of lube right onto his brother’s ass (and it was a testament to how many times they’ve done it already that instead of hissing at the cold gel, Egg  _ moaned _ ), and pushing inside without waiting for any signal that he could. Aegon  _ keened _ , loudly, slightly less hoarse than he’d been for a while now, spreading his legs wider so Aemon could fit into him deeper.

He didn’t know he could still get this hard, so fast, but he could feel himself getting harder as he pushed and pulled inside Aegon, who was near tears, now, his whole body shivering at the brutal pace Aemon kept, even as his own legs protested at it.

“ _ Shit, Aems _ \-- Oh my gods, don’t-- Slow _ down _ \--” he could hear his brother plead, but they had  _ agreed _ that Egg would do as Aemon wanted tonight, and no amount of begging right now would get him to stop.  _ “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck _ , Aems, you’re going to--”

What he was going to do, he never actually learned, because at that moment, Aegon came, untouched and dry, with tear tracks down his cheeks and sobbing. It was the last straw for Aemon, who came not long after, losing his entire balance to the bliss and topping on top of his trembling brother, who made a pathetic noise in protest.

“I guess,” Aegon managed, once they caught their breaths, “I guess all three of us have… a thing for a man in uniform.”

“We haven’t seen Rhae in it,” Aemon pointed out, and they both groaned, moving apart as fast as they could to not take the interest they both knew they had in such a vision out on each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see yall tomorrow thank u for coming to the partay


	15. Laenor Velaryon/Joffrey Lonmouth; frottage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lazy mornings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's short.  
but day 18 is kicking my ass.  
just like day 17.  
they gon be LONG bois.  
just appreciate the canon gays <3

“Your wife will catch me here and feed me to her dragon,” Joffrey said, and Laenor snorted.

“She’s too busy, having her sworn sword swear his sword to her,” he japed, pulling Joff closer, burying his head into the crook of his neck, putting one leg over the other’s thigh and pulling him ever closer, their cocks touching delightfully in their mid-morning arousal.

“Hmm, still, love, she’s awfully possessive, I’ve heard.” Joff’s hips were flush with Laenor’s now, and they breathed out little moans at the contact, grinding together, searching for friction.

“She liked you well enough,” he pointed out, remembering the… colorful gathering the night before, with Jacaerys testing his new words with ‘uncle Joff’, and Lucerys being a little horror, throwing his mashed potatoes around, while Rhaenyra looked every bit the queen she would one day be, and made small talk with Joffrey over Laenor.

“Thank the gods,” the other laughed, breathlessly, then leaned in to capture Laenor’s lips into a kiss, slow and tender as they rutted against each other, pleasure finding them quick as the morning tide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank yall for reading!!! see yall tomorrow
> 
> ALSO REMINDER I DO NOT TAKE PROMPTS AND I HATE IT WHEN PPL TRY TO GET SMART ABT IT BY FRAMING IT AS A SUGGESTION. LET'S NOT INSULT MY INTELLIGENCE AND UPEND MY WRITING PLANS: I HAVE THE ENTIRE FUCKING REMAINDER OF THE MONTH PLANNED, DOWN TO THE PAIRING, AND I DO NOT TAKE SUGGESTIONS. SOMEONE IN THE COMMENTS ALREADY FUCKED UP MY DAY 31 PLANS BY SUGGESTING I CONTINUE ONE OF THESE DRABBLES, WHICH I WAS ABOUT TO, BUT AM NOT GOING TO ANYMORE BC I AM A STUBBORN BITCH. PLEASE FUCKING RESPECT AUTHORS, ESPECIALLY ONES UNDERTAKING THINGS LIKE MONTH LONG PROMPT-THONS. I'M DOING ONE ENTIRE MONTH OF DUBIOUS QUALITY CONTENT, WRITING AND POSTING DAILY, FOR FREE. IF I WANTED TO BE PROMPTED BY STRANGERS IN THE INTERNET, I'D ASK, OR GO HUNT AN ACTIVE KINKMEME.


	16. Jon Snow/Aegon I; seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jon wonders if this counts as the complete set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last one of the jon/conquering trio things i had planned.
> 
> i was entirely too amused by this.  
tomorrow we're delving deeper.

This was it. Jon was utterly, thoroughly screwed, and he’d die exactly like his siblings thought he would, but three hundred years in the past: by the black flame of the Black Dread.

“Jon Snow, is it? Sit down,” the man in front of him said, and Jon obeyed, because what else was he supposed to do? Regardless of the times, this was the first King of the Seven Kingdoms (even if Jon knew by now that, by Valyrian customs and within Dragonstone, the title belonged to Queen Visenya).

“Yes, Your Grace,” he replied on reflex, taking a seat as far from the man on the other side of the table as possible, a futile exercise on his courtesies, for the table was indeed very small and  _ square _ .

King Aegon didn’t sit on the opposite side, either.

“You’re the little bastard brother Senya and Rhae have enjoyed toying with, I presume,” the man said, purple eyes twinkling purple in the candlelight.

_ This is it, my last moments on earth _ , Jon thought, as he shrank into the chair, reddening in a way unbefitting of his nearing nine-and-ten namedays, and King Aegon’s smirk widened, predatorily so.

“They do not give me much choice, Your Grace,” he manages to stutter through his embarrassment.

“They do not, do they? Can’t say I fault them,” the king continued, putting a hand on Jon’s thigh, “we don’t think we’ve seen quite so…  _ exotic _ a little brother since  _ Orys _ .” Jon wasn’t sure if that was a compliment, but tried his best to take it as such. “That being said, we had it northmen were unkempt barbarians.”

“There’s no time to perfume beards in the battlefield, as much as the Southerners would want people to believe there is, my king,” Jon answered, bristling at the prejudices. He was fairly sure that in three hundred years, northern hygiene would have  _ not _ been worse than the Andal one was. Down south even the roads reeked of refuse, as if southerners did not know to  _ bury _ it.

King Aegon laughed at his weak jape, clearly delighted at the foreign wit, the hand on Jon’s leg tightening its hold as the man leaned in further, at the edge of his seat.

“Oh, that’s certainly what even the Hoares thought,” Aegon said, smirking that dragon smirk he shared with his sisters, and knowing that he might be related to such people, Jon imagined if he was prone to smirking he’d do it like that too.

“It must’ve been a sight,” Jon nodded, wistfully, because he’s seen more dragons in action these last weeks than surely anyone in his time has seen, ever, and he wondered if it ever got old.

“You could get that feeling, too, if you wanted to. Senya tells me you’ve been spending time in the pits, that old Vhagar nearly charred you to bits.” The king’s hand went to a spot in Jon’s head where the hair was shorter, singed off by the queen’s great green menace.

“It was but playing, Your Grace,” he defended the old dragon, being fond of the old beast that has been his mount by proxy twice now.

“You are very patient with the wide array of dragons that decide to play with you, Jon Snow,” King Aegon said, and Jon inhaled sharply as the man’s free hand toyed with one of his curls.

“Wolves are very patient with family, my king,” he replied automatically, as the older man apparently shifted his strategy, pulling on Jon’s hand the same way Queen Visenya did when she wanted him to stand.

“A little dragonwolf, are you? So your mother was a Stark,” the man mused, manhandling Jon onto his lap, “or near enough.”

The words weren’t supposed to make as much  _ sense _ as it did, and Jon filed the feeling of uneasiness that came with them for when he wasn’t also getting to the conclusion that this was yet another example of Targaryen siblings sharing  _ everything _ .

“Every noble house but the Boltons are near-directly related to the Starks, Your Grace,” he settled on saying, instead, aware he was giving information he shouldn’t to people that were, at the time being, enemies of his family (or was he giving information to protect  _ both _ his families?), and not really caring beyond knowing that he actually really enjoyed the way the dragons showed their gratitude whenever he did something that pleased them.

He was fairly sure this was what a trained dog felt like, and didn’t want to examine it too much.

“Senya did say you were a treasure, little brother,” Aegon whispered in Jon’s ear and Jon was pretty sure now that they were doing what they were to get him to talk, and it was  _ working _ , and he was also sure that he could live with it. Especially when the man’s hand that rested on his thigh slid upwards, towards Jon’s already eager cock. “Such a precious, smart brother, we could use some of that when facing the Northmen,” the king laughed, pulling Jon by the neck and kissing him softly.

“King Torrhen is a smart man, my king. Surely he’ll see reason,” Jon muttered against the other man’s lips, tentatively putting a hand on King Aegon’s shoulder, who didn’t react at all to it except to put his hand on Jon’s cock.

“I guess we shall see, then, Jon Snow,” he said, gently pushing Jon back to his own chair, and the younger man let out a really pathetic noise of disappointment from his throat, then swallowed when Aegon put his hand on his chair’s backrest and leaned into his personal space, looking Jon in the eye with those mesmerizing eyes that were the same shade as in the portraits of Prince Rhaegar. “If you’re right, I’ll give you what you want.”

“And if I’m not?” he asked, because there might’ve been a small, minuscule chance that his presence here might’ve altered something in the fabric of the universe.

“I’ll still do it, but I won’t be as nice,” the man replied, before leaning back upright and turning.

Jon knew a dismissal when he saw one. It was the first time it would be just him and his hand in those two weeks, and he prayed that nothing he’s known changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading and see yall tomorrow!  
this is officially the longest uninterrupted posting string of my life! the last time i posted daily, i was 16, recently crowned second place regional, fourth place national in the Astronomy Olympics (math olympics for private schools) and was using my newfound untouchable status to be adhd on main in class bc what were they going to do, kick me out of school? oh, and i had won a writing contest and spent the prize money on emo clothes and hair dye. to be young, foolish and thinking writing was a fruitful career.
> 
> reminder i don't take requests OR suggestions, don't insist.


	17. Jon Snow/Bloodstone Emperor; xenophilia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it was as if he walked into the belly of the beast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this came out fluffier than i'd like. way fluffier. i peaked at 15yo for edgy eldritch things, and of _that_ one im not exactly proud.

jon/bloodstone emperor, jon’s taken as a barely willing sacrifice to the emperor who… is fond of jon.

Everyone but Prince Aemon is surprised when the auguries foretell that the next sacrifice to the Bloodstone Temple should be him.

“You don’t have to go,” his father, brother, sister, mothers all said.

“It would anger the Celestial Emperor,” he replied, meekly.

In fact, he’d been dreaming of it since last year’s sacrifice. A dark, black stone corridor, so unlike the Celestial Palace, and something calling him. Not in any way he recognized, but a pull nonetheless. He knew the histories said that his family was descended from the Celestial Emperor, and from the Emperor’s line almost exclusively, as the eldest child, the first emperor of the Bloodstone dynasty, had claimed most of his half-siblings to spouse, and so was done unless necessity called, or the emperor or empress decided to take concubines (which was the case of both his fathers’ wives). He knew the legends, that his ancestor had dabbled in sorceries and experimented with magics so dark and deep, he became a vessel to a god, and eventually a god himself. It was a great honor, his father said, to be chosen to the Celestial Emperor’s household.

It was how they called it. The Celestial Emperor’s Holy Household. They never mentioned the bits and pieces of rotten bodies that the blind priests collected from the temple every so often, or the time they found a corpse with both its hands inside its throat.

In the ceremonial procession, only the blind priests accompanied him. Usually, the Imperial Family would accompany too, because the family was entitled to seeing their child off one last time, but Aegon, Rhaenys, Father and his Mothers were all upset that he’d go through with this, knowing the fate of the many sacrifices.

“You don’t love us enough to stay,” Rhaenys accused him.

So he swallowed his tears, and walked towards the Bloodstone Temple, not turning back even as he heard his siblings screaming his name, begging him to come back. It was too late. They decided he didn’t care, after all. No one seemed to notice how much safer everyone was when the correct sacrifice was made. No one, but him. After all, they all knew that the mother that birthed him was supposed to have gone to the Celestial Emperor, and a bloody war that almost tore the empire apart had followed the delivery of an unworthy sacrifice.

His father knew. His mothers knew. His siblings knew. There was no argument that justified angering the Celestial Emperor like that again, just because he wanted to be with his family. Aemon wanted to be that selfish. With every step he took towards the Bloodstone Temple, he wished he was that selfish; with every breath he took, he wished he had stayed in his siblings’ arms.

The Bloodstone Temple was large, exquisitely decorated and impeccably kept, made of a strange, black stone that was at the same time polished and opaque, shining and sucking in the light. It seemed to be pulling at Aemon’s mind too. He suddenly understood the various ways the sacrifices had killed themselves in this place; he felt watched from every angle, like something oily and sluggish was draped over his entire body like an uncomfortable mantle, seeping into his bones and settling into his lungs.

“We’re almost there, my prince,” one of the blind priests said, and if he felt fatigued, it didn’t show on his voice.

Aemon thought they didn’t feel the weight and the liquidness in the air because they were blind, because every time he blinked, he felt some of the pressure ease. He didn’t dare close his eyes, though not completely, because he no longer saw the blissful darkness of the absence of light when he did; instead, everything became… brilliant. The liquid feeling in the air became sharper, and he almost could feel… something touching him.

He arrived at the top as the Sun crept around the mountains of Stygai. The moment the light hit the city, he was alone. The Bloodstone Temple sprawled in front of him, black, forbidding and oozing shadows. Aemon found that now, when he blinked, he saw only darkness. Smiling, Aemon ran into the temple, careless of whatever he thought he saw in the deep, dark shadows, seeking the sunlight like a child. The warm beams nearly hurt his skin, and the light was nigh enough to blind him if he looked at it directly, but when he entered a room and laid on the patch of sunlight and closed his eyes, all he saw was blissful darkness, deep and forbidding and  _ free _ .

He fell asleep there, sprawled on the warm patch on the chaise, and did not notice the tongues that licked at his legs, not even when they crawled under his clothes.

Aemon woke up to a strange, constricted light, and opened his eyes to darkness. His eyes drooped, and he saw something in the light… a shape? He opened his eyes and screamed.

The last sacrifice was standing in front of him, but she… she wasn’t alive anymore, but something told Aemon the corpse in front of him yet lived, somehow. One of her hands raised up, like a puppet’s, and as it moved, Aemon heard the bones in the shoulder cracking.

The corpse’s hand touched his face softly, before the body flickered. Aemon blinked at the same time. He never saw the tentacles writhing under her skin showing like a worn doll’s filling, tentacles that adjoined a larger one that stuck out of the sacrifice’s broken neck and back like a finger puppet.

When he opened his eyes, the corpse was gone.

“Weird…” he said, to the empty room, which stared back, confused.

Aemon suddenly felt a weight on him, and it was as if the very air was solid and trying to get into his lungs by force instead of being passively inhaled, and, on instinct, he closed his eyes. There it was, that shape in the light again, and the air was normal again.

_ You can’t stay blind forever _ , something solid and real and  _ living _ whispered in his hear, so much so he felt its breath and lips wrapping warmly around his ear, and his eyes snapped open, then, and he turned to face the empty air, which somehow was just as oppressive but less forceful. He closed his eyes again.

_ You can hear, at least, little Aemon. _ This time, the voice came from right in front of him, the lips touching his own, and Aemon stiffened, alarmed. He felt a ghostly, barely there hand push off his shirt. He opened his eyes again. The corpse wasn’t there, but the left part of his shirt was shredded, as if some ethereal weapon with a grudge against fabric, only, tore into him several times.

“I liked this shirt,” he said, lowly, before closing his eyes again.

_ I’ve never had a willing sacrifice before _ , the voice said, amusedly, its ghostly lips kissing his shoulder, then replacing the shirt. Aemon tried to open one eye, but heard an inhuman shriek that made him tighten his eyes and almost cover his ears.  _ Foolish pet! Deathseeking toy! I keep telling you, do not look at more than you can understand, and none of you obey! _

He made to open both eyes. Nothing happens. His shirt was whole again.

“Thank you,” he told the empty room, and it softened in content.

He didn’t see a single blind priest his first week, nor his third, nor well into the second moon, but the rooms seemed always to be clean, and there always seemed to be food. He took it all, grateful, and kept the echoes of the Celestial Emperor company, for surely that was the point of the sacrifices.

One day, he asked the echoes why it asked for humans.

_ You are all so fragile, _ it responded, _ it is expected of a god to be unreasonable, which is why I ask of you what’s most precious of you. _

“So you ask us for our lives, as you’ve protected them,” he told the empty poolyard, where he swam alone and nude. The pool’s water wrapped around his legs and hair, and Aemon giggled. “That tickles.”

_ You are strange, little Aemon. Do you not fear your god? _

“I trust my god, Holy Exalted,” he answered, and the water around him turned cold and sharp in surprise, then pulled him under.

_ Your life is so fragile, would you trust me to end it? _

Aemon didn’t answer, nor fought, merely held his breath as long as he could. It seemed answer enough for the echoes, which released him back to the surface, curling around his body like what Aemon imagined was a lover’s caress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading and special thanks to my friend mneiai for being fucking awesome, pls read their things and leave them a lot of nice comments bc they fucking deserve it  
also they're the og galaxy brain of this ship, i think.
> 
> see yall tomorrow it's gonna be _lit fam_


	18. Brandon Stark/Barbrey Ryswell; creampie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it is a fascinating thing to watch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imma post this before god decides to nerf my powers again by crashing the power grid of EXACTLY my apartment building, AGAIN.

He loved watching his seed dribble out of Barbrey’s cunt.

Brandon wasn’t sure what that said about him, that he kept her legs forced open, his fingers catching his seed and pushing it back in just so he could watch it come out again, sometimes even going a second or third time to spill more inside Barbrey, so he had more to play with. Barbrey didn’t seem to mind it so much, if her mewls and moans were any indication, or even the way her cunt fluttered around his fingers and cock deliciously.

Sprawled out with the tip of his cock still inside her, he wondered if this was what love felt like, to hold someone close and indulge in stupid fantasies and not be judged, but have the other also relish in it, as he watched Barbrey smirk wickedly, and a second later he felt her cunt squeeze his cock, as the movement made his seed leak around his girth obscenely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls enjoy and appreciate that not even GOD can keep me from posting these sins to yall, see yall tomorrow
> 
> (im not posting from my phone, but pls appreciate that i would)


	19. Rhaenyra/Daemon; cockwarming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soft mornings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not happy with this but what can one do its day has come.

She woke up with his hard cock still inside her.

It wasn’t even that unusual that it wasn’t  _ still _ there from last night, and dearest uncle merely put it back and fell asleep again, Rhaenyra thought, sleepily. She had woken up more than once because he accidentally jostled her in his attempts of keeping his word of always being inside her while they were in bed. He called it ‘making up for all the years we’ve been kept apart by the king.’ She loved it.

Rhaenyra looked at her swelling belly, the slight curve of her and Daemon’s babe growing strong inside her. Hopefully a little boy she could call Aegon to spite her odious stepmother. With her leg that he put over himself, she pulled Daemon’s hips closer, relishing in the little friction and the resulting instinctual shallow thrust her loving uncle gave, still half asleep.

“Wake up, Daemon,” she called, smirking slightly and putting her hand where they were joined, caressing what she could of his shaft with the tips of her fingers. “Don’t you think your cock ought to be warm enough to fuck your wife by now?”

“She’s going to need more than that to make me move,” he teased, voice gruff from sleep and lust. The princess shoved her uncle right off her, biting her lip so as not to moan at feeling so empty. “Oh, you little minx--” Daemon growled, before pressing Rhaenyra into the bedding, a firm thumb under her chin and his fingers pressing into her throat.

“I need you, uncle,” she whispered, and he pushed inside again, staying so infuriatingly still. “Daemon, please…”

“I’ll move when I want to, dearest wife,” he growled against her skin. “For now, be still and pretty, ‘Nyra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u so much for reading, stay tuned for tomorrow!


	20. Fem!Jon Snow/Rhaenys Targaryen-Martell; dirty talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> her sister had a way with words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i BARELY covered the thing, but, THING IS, i forgot the og plans for this one and i didn't bother THEN to write them out bc i would remember. ha. "remember".

“Aren’t you the sweetest,” Rhaenys said, softly, and it would’ve been nice to hear that if her sister wasn’t talking directly onto her pussy.

“Rhae…”

“I’m serious,” she continued, and Visenya groaned, torn between staying upright on her elbows or slumping back onto the mattress. “You always taste so good, little sister.” Rhae’s fingers entered her, her thumb on her clit, and Visenya bit her lip, fighting the urge to close her legs on her sister. “And you always react so cute.”

“We should be getting ready for the party, not-- not doing this.”

Rhaenys scoffed, because of course she did. Visenya rolled her eyes, doing her best to pretend it was because of Rhaenys’ antics, not her fingers moving oh-so deliciously.

“We’ve time, love," Rhaenys said, kissing Visenya’s folds lightly. "We can get ready after you finish chilling with big sister."

She flopped down on the bed, groaning, but still shamefully ground into her sister’s fingers like a wanton slut.

"You and Egg really like pulling shit like this, don't you?" Visenya asked, one arm over her eyes, breathing through her mouth to keep herself calm. She was intent on not giving Rhaenys the satisfaction of her desperation.

"You're our baby sister, it's only right we spoil you." Rhaenys removed her fingers, then, and Visenya swallowed a whine at the loss. "And by spoil, I mean, you’re so very fuckable, ‘Senya.” She couldn’t help the small sigh at it; Rhaenys really knew how to push her buttons. “So pretty and bendy, how can we  _ not _ want to get our hands and mouths on you at any given time?”

Visenya’s hand went to her mouth, and she bit her knuckles, just as Rhaenys’ hand that wasn’t preoccupied with teasing her clit went to grasp at her breasts, just as she felt the mattress shift and a kiss pressed to her belly.

She would  _ not _ give Rhae the satisfaction of her desperation, she thought, even as her legs shook and shivered where her older sister’s skin made contact, where she felt Rhae’s wet cunt touch her thigh.

“My little mirror,” she heard her sister say, affectionately, as she bit harder into her hand so as not to moan when Rhaenys removed her hand. “Stop biting on your hand, ‘Senya, I have something to put in your mouth instead,” Rhaenys purred, pushing her hand out of the way, and Visenya didn’t resist, and didn’t try to fight when her sister pushed in the two fingers she had in Visenya’s folds into her mouth. “See, how sweet you are, little sister?”

She hummed annoying in response, but didn’t make any mention to pull away, just licking at Rhaenys’ fingers.

“Gods, you’re so lovely, especially when you’re all spread out like this, like a little slut,” Rhaenys said, gleefully, and Visenya’s throat let past a little sound, which she tried muffling on the fingers in her mouth. “Gonna get you all soft and fucked out on my fingers, and then when Egg asks what’s up with you, I’m gonna tell him what happened. That I fucked you with my fingers then made you taste it.”

She looked towards the window. There was still some sun outside. She could hold out a little more just to hear Rhaenys talk like that some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading and see yall tomorrow!


	21. Jon Snow/Aegon VI; suspension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he sometimes wonder what his brother would do without him to work the braincell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i took the coward's way out, SUE ME.  
the original plans involved hook suspension. but i couldn't find a way of writing it without getting faint (not bc of the gore, but bc that kind of suspension involves needles.......... huge needles............... bc opening skin with a scalpel primes it for tearing......... and i am deathly afraid of needles............)

Aemon really should know better than to trust his brother.

“Really?” he said, when Aegon presented to him his newest purchase. “A swing?”

“You could find it in your heart to be nicer to your bro,” Aegon replied, pouting.

“I am being nice; I haven’t laughed in your face yet, have I?” He shot back, tilting his head.

“Oh, you’re so fucking rude, little brother,” Aegon all but moaned aloud, pretending so outrageously to be upset that it drew a smile from Aemon. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. You could use to be more adventurous.”

“We’re plenty adventurous,” Aemon said, too quickly, and he knew just then he’d walked into a trap, when Aegon’s smile turned downright predatory.

“Yeah? Name one occasion.”

“Okay, fine, so I like vanilla shit, it’s not a crime!”

“Oh, come on, Aems. Just the once and I’ll never bring it up again?” Aegon pleaded, and Aemon sighed, rolling his eyes.

“ Fine. One time.”

Getting onto the thing was fine. He was athletic enough, even as Aegon told him that he could’ve used a stool. He just lifted himself off the ground with his arms, and was subjected to his brother making leering comments at him.  _ Business as usual _ , Aemon thought.

The hard part was taking the whole thing seriously when Aegon got carried away and thrusted too hard. The overconfident idiot didn’t think to hold the rigging, and Aemon didn’t think he’s ever laughed this much during sex when he slipped out and and swung back, like an actual, non-sex swing. He supposed it was part of why it was called a sex  _ swing _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for coming and see yall tomorrow owo


	22. Jon Snow/Aegon VI; handjobs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just game night with the targaryen brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plot borrowed shamelessly from gay porn.

“Yessssss, pay up, Egg,” Aemon turned to his brother, smiling triumphantly, as he did a victory lap on Mario Kart.

“Ugh, it’s not fair, you’re cheating.” Aegon groaned and fell down, flat on his back, on the cushions they had hoarded on the floor of Aemon’s room.

“How can I be cheating on Rainbow Road, which, might I add, you chose,” he chastised, pulling on his socks.

“ _ Ugh _ ,” his brother repeated, with emphasis.

“Pay up, you said you would,” he said, pouting. Aegon groaned again, but relented, pulling on Aemon’s overlarge shirt until he was close enough to kiss. The other hand went into Aemon’s underwear, pulling it down enough to get his cock out.

_ “Oh.” _ He made a little surprised noise. This was nothing like what Theon Greyjoy described when he was six cups into his beer. Granted, Theon thought he was a blessing unto earth for any girl and they should be grateful he let them touch his dick, and this was Aegon, his brother, his partner and one of his betrotheds, so he figured the difference was in both experiencing first hand (ha) and that Aemon actually loved and cared about Aegon.

“Feels good, Aems?” Aegon asked, voice low and miraculously not breaking at the ends.

It was all he could do to nod, and enjoy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading and see yall tomorrow! owo


	23. Fem!Jon Snow/Smalljon Umber; size difference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alysanne Snow was just happy her father made this match, but she didn't think it through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is long.  
tomorrow is LONGER.  
some days just bite u and never let go.  
enjoy

As the men carried her off to the bedding, Alysanne’s heart threatened to jump right out of her chest. She was the Smalljon’s wife now, future Lady Umber. No matter how many tantrums Lady Stark wanted to throw that a bastard girl shouldn’t be raised to the lady of one of the most powerful houses in the North, it happened, she was Alysanne Umber now, and soon to have the marriage consummated so that no one could doubt their marriage.

All thoughts of her father’s wife’s outrage went out the window as she was deposited in the bedroom, in nothing but her shift and smallclothes, the men probably afraid of Lord Stark’s anger if they did undress her all the way, and the women shoved the Smalljon in his nameday suit through the door. She was about to be the lawfully wedded and bedded wife of Lord Jon Umber, and she didn’t know why  _ now _ was the time the words Theon said to her chose to sink in.

_ “He’s a big,  _ big _ man, the Smalljon, if you catch my meaning.” He’d said it laughing, and Alysanne had tilted her head to the side, in confusion. “A man that size, he’s got big arms, big legs, big torso… Aren’t you wondering what else is big?” _

Now, she wished she had. Alysanne looked away, pulling at the single strand of silver she had, trying not to stare. She wasn’t any expert at cocks, but she was fairly sure it wasn’t normal for them to be that big.

Jon didn’t have any such compunctions, pulling Alysanne into his arms and up, until his hands were on her waist and ass and she was level with his eyes.

“You are my wife, now,” he said, smiling brightly, and Aly couldn’t help but smile back. “And I am the luckiest fucker in the world to be your husband.”

She smiled shyly at that, opting not to say that luck played no part in it; the moment she heard her father complaining at uncle Benjen about the request from the Greatjon, she barged into the room and demanded that he accept it. The sooner she was gone from Lady Stark’s auspices, the better. Plus, Lady Umber, in the few days they’ve known each other, had shown more care and respect for Alysanne than she’s ever known from any highborn woman that wasn’t Arya, and she’d rather be with her goodmother than her father’s wife.

“And I’m happy it’s you, and not, say, Ramsay Bolton,” she replied, aware the bar she set was very low indeed, but it made Jon smile.

“I told father that if I couldn’t marry you, I’d join the Watch,” he told her, smiling, but his tone was very serious. She shook her head, and kissed his cheek.

“Silly man. As if I’d let that happen.”

Jon kissed her then, taking them to the bed in his quarters, laying her down so gently she almost forgot what they were about to do, but it came back to her in a rush as he pulled her shift up, and she tensed before she allowed it. Jon’s mouth went immediately to her neck, and she let out a strangled, surprised noise; Alysanne tried thinking of what Old Nan told her about the bedding, and accidentally thought of what Lady Stark said, when she passed by.

_ A bastard such as she should have no problem spreading her legs, it’s in her nature. _

It didn’t  _ feel _ like her nature, right now, as her  _ husband _ eyed her almost hungrily, and she was  _ supposed _ , according to the reluctant lesson she got from Septa Mordane, to want to be bedded by the one man the gods would bless her coupling with. And she supposed on one hand, she  _ did _ want to, she was well aware of what the warmth and wetness between her legs meant, even if only  _ now _ she was aware of what Theon (always goddamn Theon with his loose tongue) meant. On the other hand, the idea of losing her maidenhead terrified her. What if it hurt so much she passed out? What if she bled out to death from it?

Another kiss from Jon distracted her pretty well from her spiraling thoughts, even if she was stiff and nervous still.

“What’s eating at your thoughts, little lady?” Jon asked, practically purring in her ear as he ran his strong, calloused hands over her body. “It’s better for you if you relax, Aly.”

_ Little lady _ . She supposed, next to the Umber family, she was positively tiny. Lady Umber had even made a jape that she might be too tiny for bearing a proper Umber heir without being bedridden for the duration. And right now, in bed and under the giant of a man that was the  _ Small _ jon, she felt like every inch of her was shielded from view if for some reason someone decided to barge in. Just the thought of that made her throat dry and her toes curl, and she wondered if this was what Lady Stark meant when she said all bastards are deviant creatures.

“I’m wishing I had the foresight to ride astride enough to lose my maidenhead, so I wouldn’t be worrying about pain right now,” she blurted out, chancing a look down Jon’s body. He laughed at her words, kissing down her neck and biting gently at a breast.

“My mother likes to jape she’s pushed out much bigger things than Father ever could put in,” he said against her skin, and it startled out an embarrassed laugh from her. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing you can’t take, love.”

She wanted to say that there are limits to what a person could take on a first time, but kept quiet. The next sound to leave her mouth was when the tip of his cock touched her folds, a muted squeak of surprise.

“Relax, Aly. It can be good for you too, but you need to breathe.”

She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until he said it, and she forced herself to exhale, and every breath after was almost a conscious effort, in through her nose and out through her mouth, until Jon took her mouth in his, kissing her slowly, and cradling her in his arms, pulling her up in his lap like she weighed nothing, and she would blame having accidentally spread her legs to sit astride on Jon’s legs on him. Even on his legs, she was barely of a height with his mouth, and he had to lean down to keep kissing her.

When he finally pushed in, she bit his shoulder to keep from crying out. To his credit, Jon went slow, but Alysanne still felt he would break her if he put in one more inch. Which is why she was surprised when he put it all in, groaning as he held her flush to him, just passively taking her bite like she wasn’t doing a thing.

“It hurt less than I thought it would,” she said, leaning out to look at JOn’s face and nearly losing her grip from the shift.

“Can’t say the same, love.” He smiled at her, and she blushed. “Should’ve known that she-wolves bite.” She blushed worse and hid her face in the crook of his neck, feeling another shift so intensely she accidentally ground into him.

He gasped out a moan.

Curious, she did it again, and he moaned again.

“Little tease,” was all he said before pushing her onto the mattress, pulling out with the movement then thrusting back in, making her cry out in surprise, then laugh as he peppered her face and chest in kisses. She was still in his arms, could feel every muscle shifting under her hands, and she felt so, so good, right there in her husband’s arms.

“I love that you’re so big,” she babbled, as he thrust inside her so deeply and fast and good, “my giant husband.”

She heard Jon’s delighted laugh above her head, just clinging and moaning as he fucked her right through… something that felt really good. When he spilled his seed inside her, she almost prayed he didn’t get her with child right then, so he’d have reason to do this longer.

(She later learned, to her delight, that her being pregnant didn’t stop Smalljon from crawling into her bed every night, and to her horror, that being pregnant made her very wanton. Not that her lord husband was complaining, with how he made her brother regret ever rejoicing at the match when he praised his ‘little wife’s skills’.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading and RIP my buffer bc today and tomorrow KILLED IT.


	24. Jon Snow/Oberyn Martell; bath sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jon wanted ONE nameday gift from his soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RACE AGAINST TIME TO POST THIS BEFORE MIDNIGHT OR I AM A FAILURE OF A PERSON WHO LET HER BUFFER DIE LIKE THAT BC THEY WANTED TO READ THRONE OF GLASS
> 
> anyway have a soulmate AU; they can have sex with other ppl in this as long as the soulmate consents to it, and it has to be freely given consent. also dorne has laws against child brides.

_ It’s today _ , Jon thought as he woke up.

His eighteenth nameday.

He was finally  _ old enough _ , according to Dornish Law. Oberyn  _ promised _ .

He even said  _ fuck it _ to his morals and accepted going to brothels, and even tried his hand at (clumsily) propositioning Daemon Sand (and by the gods, he cannot believe it worked to this day), as Oberyn had suggested. He made him consent to him sleeping around by making a hypocrite out of him, so today, there would be no other for his soulmate. Today was strictly a no-other day. He  _ promised. _

The whole day was a hazy mess for him. The servants wished him a happy nameday, the midday meal was his favorites from the North and Dorne, though the Northern dishes were a bit too spicy. Ser Daemon had finally thought him old enough to train with live steel, and Tyene, Obara and Nymeria (he refused to think of women older than him as his  _ stepdaughters _ ) had gifted him with a fine new set of jewelry with compartments to hide poisons, a freshly-forged, perfectly balanced sword and a new set of armor designed in both Dornish and Northern style.

“I’ll probably look like Oberyn like this,” he complained, but all of them knew his heart wasn’t in it; there were worse things than looking like his Marked husband.

“Just take the gifts and be happy, Prince Whiner,” Nymeria said, smirking, and Jon rolled his eyes at the nickname; he’d complained about the heat so much in those first weeks that the older Sand Snakes had taken to call him that.

“You can’t call him that, it’s bad manners,” the youngest of Oberyn’s girls, Loreza, said, as she poked her head into Jon’s quarters.

“Jon’s a big boy, Lori, he can take a little poking from family,” Tyene said, in the tone of someone who meant something else than a good-natured teasing, and Jon tried not to blush at the implication.  _ Own it so no one can use it against you _ .

“Well, it’s not nice,” the girl continued, as she hauled a cotton bag onto a chair. “Father’s been saying for a while now that we should be very nice to Jon, because they’re soulmates.”

The three eldest looked at each other as if they shared a secret, and Obara ruffled her sister’s hair. Jon hated when he felt like they knew more about his own family than he did. They filed out of the room, and Loreza pulled him by the hand near the sack.

“So, Elia said you’re turning eight-and-ten today,” the girl started, casually, and Jon confirmed, as the girl of eight stood in front of the bag. “Father said he’d marry you when you were this old, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Jon replied, unsure where this was going.

“It means you’ve lost a lot of gifts from Father’s Day! Elia, Obella and Dorea laughed because they thought you wouldn’t mind, because you’re not even old enough to be our dad, anyway, but!” She paused, taking a breath, obviously heated about it. “It’s important to  _ me _ . So here, I asked Father what were the gifts I made him, so I could make them for you, too.”

There were only four things, because, as Loreza explained, she was too young to know what to make, and Jon loved each and every one. A drawing of their family (Lori explained that the original one was made before she met Jon and knew he was her father’s soulmate, so that’s why he and Ghost weren’t in the copy), a funny looking ceramic pot he saw a less skilled version of in Oberyn’s rooms, which he was told was for putting in his rings and other jewelry he used frequently (she looked so excited explaining what it was for that Jon felt bad about shoving all the jewelry he ever gotten in boxes at the bottom of the trunk containing his furs and vowed to pick at least a few rings, bracelets and one necklace just to put the little pot to use), a little wolfshead pendant she commissioned with Sunspear’s head silversmith (“Can’t give you a snake like I did for Father, because you’re a wolf, not a snake, so I asked the smith to make a silver wolf with ruby eyes!”) and the last one was still in wraps.

“You can’t open it. Father doesn’t have his yet, but the Father’s day is  _ tomorrow _ . I’m only giving it to you now because it’s your nameday,” she said, gravely.

“I swear to you, I’ll only open this on the morrow,” he replied, just as solemnly, which seemed to please the young Sand Snake.

As soon as the girl skipped away, he closed the door to his rooms. Sitting on his desk, with all the unfinished letters and new trinkets, he felt the weight of it. He was eight-and-ten. In a moon’s time he would begin preparations for his own wedding ceremony.

He groaned, hitting his head lightly on the oak of the desk, making everything on top of it rattle. He knew he probably should wait until the wedding night, so that Oberyn had no cleverly crafted excuse  _ not _ to, because truly, one was supposed to  _ bed _ their spouse, not dance around it. He respected Oberyn’s decision to not want to bed a child (and looking back, his offense at being called a child was laughable, and if he thought too much he might even think of asking to push it all even further because he certainly didn’t  _ feel _ like an adult), but also, he was a red blooded man with  _ needs _ . Needs these that weren’t helped in the least by the tinges of lust he could feel through the bond sometimes.

In all the ways that mattered to  _ Jon _ , they were already as good as married, better even, than whatever drivel about the Seven he’s been made to learn. The Old Gods didn’t care about some silly ceremony, the moment they marked you, they blessed your union. He certainly saw Oberyn’s point in not wanting to bed him four years ago (and really, he barely saw any reason  _ now _ that he wasn’t a child and was more experienced), but he also was bonded to the man, and it hurt a little that his soulmate would look at him and feel fondness, then look at some pretty courtier and Jon would feel lust through the bond.

He’s been planning this for months now. He couldn’t chicken out  _ now _ .

Jon huffed, and pushed off the desk, chair rasping on the sandy floor. He meant to go into Oberyn’s rooms, and stop him from whatever he was doing to demand he make good on his promise.

All that bravado was gone when he finally strode into his soulmate’s room, to see he was bathing.

“Ah, little lizard, to what do I owe the _pleasure,_” and Jon didn’t just imagine the way Oberyn’s voice curled around the word, “of your company?”

Jon swallowed, then looked down, into the floor tiles.

“It’s my nameday today,” he said, instead of whatever he had planned on saying.

“So it is,” Oberyn said, twisting in his bath and looking at Jon over the rim of the bathtub. “Did you come here to join me, love?”

He hadn’t originally, but (and Jon blushed like a maid at the thought) he wasn’t going to get a better opportunity than this until the wedding, so he nodded, not looking at all at Oberyn, but feeling his amusement through the bond, and shucking off his silk tunic and kicking off his slippers (he had no idea how the others could put up with sandals) so he could get out of his breeches. He knew he had kicked all his clothes way too fast to pretend he wasn’t eager about the idea of being naked with Oberyn, but still, he tried to retain some semblance of respectability by sinking into the tub as fast as he could without splashing water everywhere. The floor could take it, but his pride wouldn’t be able to withstand the blow.

“And to what do I owe the company, little lizard?” Oberyn asked, languidly putting more of the perfumed oils into the bath and taking a shaving of soap. Jon took the hint and turned around awkwardly shifting to sit between the man’s legs, as Oberyn washed his back unhurriedly. Every inch of skin the other touched burned as his soulmate worked the slowly forming bubbles into his skin, massaging his tense muscles.

“Do I have to have an ulterior motive to see  _ my soulmate _ ?” he retorted, knowing that it didn’t really answer Oberyn’s question, and answered it way more plainly than he’d like.

“When it’s the evening of one’s nameday, the one that makes him an adult under Dornish law, and said soulmate may have made him a promise… Yes.”

Jon tried not to curl up into himself, taking in a shaky breath.

“Is it wrong to be eager to…  _ be involved _ … with one’s own soulmate?”

Oberyn laughed at the phrasing, pressing a kiss to Jon’s neck and hugging him from behind.

“It is not, in fact.” Oberyn pulled him closer, into his strong, scarred arms, and Jon bit his lip, breath hitching at their bond, and at the spike of lust that, for once, he wasn’t sure where it came from.

Jon turned , facing Oberyn again, sitting on his legs, and, after a grounding, shaky breath, he lunged, kissing his soulmate for the first time.

Soon enough, Oberyn had him gasping and panting for more, the man’s skilled hands reducing Jon to a moaning mess in such a short time, he had no idea if it was because he’s been waiting for this since he was 16, or if it was the looping of their bond, and Jon just  _ wasn’t _ used to feeling so… wanton.

“In your little experiments, have you ever tried fucking in the bath, love?” Oberyn asked, as his hands found Jon’s ass and toyed with it, making him soft and pliant in his hands.

“I guess I’ll find out, won’t I?” He replied cheekily, putting one leg on each side of the other’s hips, watching Oberyn watch  _ him _ as Jon shyly pushed himself onto his fingers.

Oberyn didn’t last a single more minute against the lust loop than Jon, but Jon was still too shy to outright beg, so he figured it was good the other attacked him without him having to ask, like he figured Oberyn would do.

The water splashed everywhere as Oberyn fucked into him, Jon’s bounces and Oberyn’s erratic thrusts disturbing it until the floor was soaked, and Jon’s silks he’d so carelessly thrown into the floor were wet and useless.

When they came, they didn’t know who was first, the loop intensifying the sensations so much it almost hurt.

“Did you like it?” Oberyn asked when Jon barely managed to catch his breath again. “Was this the nameday gift you wanted from me?”

“No, but it’s a start,” Jon answered, smiling, leaning in for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank i so much for reading and see yall tomorrow!!!!


	25. Fem!Jon/Aegon VI; tickling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> being valyrian and having sisters is suffering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have issues with destiny being a fps with a lore as good as it has. also there's three reasons i want a switch: pokemon, snes games and monhan. monhan world is good fite me.
> 
> on another note, i stopped reading throne of glass and i intend to finish writing kinktober by sunday, wish me fucking luck.
> 
> without further whining from me, have this little thing i finished writing while having tea with my grandmother, that's how much i love yall.

‘Senya had shoved her foot on his face again.

“What do you want, demon from the Seven Hells?” he asked, not looking at her, shooting at some Fallen.

“Are you done?”

“Done with what?”

She put her foot on Aegon’s face and left it there.

“With this boring game! When you said we could hang out, I thought you meant we’d maybe play Monster Hunter together, not that you’d be playing while I watch like some kind of pissing contest with your friends.”

He didn’t want to admit that it was exactly what this was; him and a few of his Valyrian friends, streaming on Discord in alternate weeks to brag about who had the hottest sisters. So far, their cousin Daemon had managed to convince the others his sister Daena was the hottest, and Aegon was trying to prove him wrong, but Rhaenys refused, and Visenya had long since wisened up to their little game, though she made up new names for it.

“I offered to let you play, and you didn’t want to,” he said, frowning, and looking down. Visenya had moved off the camera and Laenor was pissing himself over it.

“Yeah, and then I saw you boot up this shitty excuse of a magical tech game, like. Seriously, who names the enemies Vex? What are they vexing? I, for one, I guess.” Aegon didn’t need to look at his laptop to know his friends were laughing. Even if they didn’t agree Visenya was way hotter than Daena ever could be, they would never say she wasn’t, somehow, the funniest of his sisters. “Why is that called a Centaur, it has  _ no _ resemblance to one. It doesn’t even walk on four legs! It has horns!”

Laenor was “officially dead”, which suited Aegon’s quickly souring mood just fine.

“It has a cool lore, 'Senya."

"Monster Hunter has a cool lore, Destiny's lore is wasted on its gameplay." Her foot slid from his face to his neck, and she started tickling him.

"Stop right there," he growled, "or it's war."

"You're not even winning, you don't have the gun power since your friends are too busy trying to catch an upskirt to play with you."

Damn his sister and her perceptiveness.

"It's a voice chat," he lied, knowing full well she knew it was a lie. He knew she could see the red light from the laptop's webcam.

"Yes, and I'm a Septa. If you stop playing your shitty game and play Monster Hunter with me, I'll consider going back in camera view."

It was tempting, and it was probably too good of an offer, but Aegon had some pride still.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

She tickled his neck again. He pretended not to notice. She poked at him, and tickled again. Aegon’s patience was running thin, more so because she was right; he needed more manpower for this and random people popping up weren't coming his way.

He looked down just in time to see Visenya crawling up to him, on all fours and shirtless, and was just as stunned as his friends for long enough that she still managed the element of surprise, tickling him mercilessly until he was nearly crying.

"S-stop!" He pleaded but Visenya was merciless. So, he decided to tickle back.

He didn't mean to tickle her on the boob, but it happened. His hand went straight under the band of her bra, and his sister squeaked and recoiled like he's bitten her.

"Egg, what the hells!" She yelled, a little oddly because they've done far worse already than boob touching, and tried pulling her onto her lap. She tilted her head to the side then, looking to the same side, and he finally noticed he left the stream going on his foldable tray.

"Sorry, guys, you already seen far more of my sister than I'd like," he apologized, before slamming the laptop shut, turning off the console and setting off in search of his sister, who pulled a surprising disappearing act in the ten seconds it took to turn off his things, though he could still hear her giggles, so she couldn't have gone that far.

He was going to find her, and when he did… likely tickling then fucking her wouldn’t stop her from doing it again, but then, he was fairly sure he’d won the bet anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u so much for reading <s>my ted talk on why i don't like destiny</s> and see yall tomorrow!


	26. Jon Snow/Aegon VI; roleplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ADULT KNIGHTS AND DRAGONS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was born from a comment thread between myself and mneiai on one of their drabbles. i mean not the fic itself, but the stupid ass game. it dawned on me when i was plotting kinktober out that this needed to be this. like, less dawned and more slammed me on the face and called me stupid for not thinking of it earlier.  
pls enjoy

“Are you ready for my sword, foul dragon?” Aegon said, dramatically, as he pinned Aemon down with one hand and brandished his cock with the other. Aemon put his fist to his mouth and bit on his finger just to stop himself from laughing out loud. “You’re supposed to roar, little brother,” he whined, in a stage whisper, though he was borderline laughing too.

“I can’t do this while you’re saying stupid bullshit like that, Egg,” Aemon replied, speaking into his finger lest he broke out in stupid little giggles.

“Shouldn’t have asked to play this game, then,” his brother argued, and Aemon could see the logic in that, but also, when he said he missed playing Dragons and Knights, he meant more in the way he couldn’t wait for their little Daeron and Daena to grow up enough to play, not… this.

Arguing that with Aegon would be a waste of air, though; his brother was used to getting his way, and his way he would get, even if he had to turn Aemon into a pile of giggles and moans to get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading and see yall tomorrow!!


	27. Cregan Stark/Alysanne Blackwood; against a wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cregan has some reservations about his second wife. black aly knows exactly where to push to make them go away.

His wife was insane, Cregan thought as Aly cornered him in a more secluded hallway of Winterfell, but still well within the more populated areas of the castle.

“If you make a noise, they’ll spot us,” she whispered against his lips, smiling that impish smile he loved. Pulling him to frame her against a wall, Aly pulled Cregan’s head down into a heated kiss, clearly ignoring the advice she just gave him and moaning softly against his mouth.

“Aly, we shouldn’t--” he tried to argue when she started unlacing his breeches.

“Aren’t you Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North? What should you care that a bannerman catches you with your wife?” She smiled again, this time with more teeth and Cregan almost felt intimidated, if it didn’t spark his arousal so much.

When he pressed her against the wall and pulled her up, kissing her hungrily, he thought he liked it when she challenged him like this.

“We should be quick, then,” he growled, as Alysanne hiked up her skirts, and did it ever drive Cregan to the brink when he found out that this was planned ahead like that.

“Yes,” she moaned lowly, grasping at his cock and holding it firmly against her cunt, “wouldn’t want little Rick to find his dad and his new wife like this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading and see yall tomorrow!
> 
> reminder (bc i got a funnyman in the comments the other day and only stopped fuming about it today) that google is free, and the name of the most recent, active kinkmeme i've found is thekinksidoforlove. if u want "someone" to pick up ur request, drop it there, not in the comments of someone's fanfic. it's not cute to slide into someone's dms with a dissimulated request for something that caters to you in specific without even paying for their dinner first.


	28. Jon Snow/Aegon VI/Rhaenys Targaryen-Martell; stripping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> having siblings is suffering; being valyrian means ur sibs get REALLY creative with that suffering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there may have been one too many questions about how does one adjust one's boner into discreetness to my husband while writing this. 'why are you like this's ensued.  
i love this entry, and if it sounds like a bad porn plot, it's because part of it is.

[Rhae]   
Hey lil bro check ur snap

Aemon knew he shouldn’t. He was studying, for the gods’ sake, and had a test in t-minus 14 hours. He shouldn’t check his snapchat.

His ability to resist distraction, however, was at an all-time low, having been staring at boring administration books for over ten hours now, holed up since the opening time at  _ eight in the morning _ . So he closed the messaging app, and booted up snapchat.

He wasn’t ready for what his sister had sent him.

It was a short video, shot with her selfie stick (he could even see the bedazzled twinkle of the lower part of the stick on Rhaenys’ skin), overlaid with the words ‘miss u bro’. He took a deep, steadying,  _ shaky _ breath as he watched her peel off her shirt. That one white shirt that Aegon and him joked made it look like she was a sexy librarian. She was even wearing her reading glasses, and heavy eyeliner, smokey eyeshadow and bright, red lipstick, and a skirt he could swear was one size too small for her, it was so tight and showing every dip of her skin where her panties’ elastic clung to her.

Aemon shifted in his seat.

[Aems]   
Rhae, I have a test tomorrow, I’m begging you, please don’t do this.

[Rhae]   
:)

That was not the best result possible, and he looked upwards in search of help or relief.

Rhae’s next video came about five minutes later, and this time she wasn’t using her selfie stick. At least not the selfie stick that was actually born with that name, because Aegon was only ever too eager to join in on Rhae’s bullshit.

“Ur already plenty smart y dont u come home to *this* librarian” was the text of the new snap, and Aemon patted himself on the back for not whining pathetically at the sight of his sister looking over her shoulder before leaning down, taking off the skirt, and Aegon’s cameramanship reached down enough to show the stripper shoes she had bought without their parents’ knowledge.

His breaths became more labored by the second.

[Aems]   
Rhae, I’m begging you, I’m glad you have faith in me, but I don’t, let me study, I’ll do whatever you want after the test’s over.

It was like praying to a dead god, he thought, when he heard the ping of a notification through his earphones. You can pray but it’s misplaced faith, to put it in something that cannot hear you drown.

She didn’t even bother taking off her undergarments, and Egg had been upgraded from camera to POV.

The videos had Rhae with her legs wide, panties to the side, and Aegon’s dick going in and out. Through the earphone, he could hear the moans his siblings were making, loud and exaggerated, until Egg stopped.

_ “Is this enough to cover my late fees, Ms. Targaryen?” _ He heard his brother ask, and a confused, strangled chuckled managed its way out Aemon’s throat.

_ “I’m afraid not, mister. And to cover so many late fees, you’ll need to call for help; maybe your little brother?” _

The videos cut there, and Aemon adjusted himself on the chair again, crossing his legs and pressing a hand down in the space between to adjust himself discreetly.

Just as he thought his siblings might’ve forgotten all about him, his erection had gone down a little and he could finally focus on studying, Aemon heard again the ominous noise of notification.

He told himself, as he pulled his phone up again and paused his music yet again, that there wasn’t any gun to his head forcing him to watch his siblings’ play at making horrible, badly acted porn. There was no threat to his immediate safety that said he  _ had _ to watch it or his life was forfeit, the thought as he took a shaky breath and tapped onto the new DM, this time from Egg.

Rhaenys was the POV, this time, and he got to watch as his brother, still balls deep into their sister, was taking off one of her heels, then unhooking one of her stockings.

_ “I don’t think my little brother is coming, though,''  _ he said and Aemon knew this was a continuation of last time. He checked the number of snaps left and cringed.

_ “Hmmm, so I guess you are going to have to, twice,” _ Rhae purred, and Aemon braced himself as Aegon bit his lip to muffle a moan for some reason, and started pulling on the loose stocking, revealing Rhaenys’ creamy, dark caramel skin, and he caught himself thinking that Egg could be pulling silk stockings off  _ his _ legs right then.

He pulled his chair closer to the table and leaned in, putting his phone on the table, a stack of books supporting it upright as he pulled his papers into a pile, regretfully, and organized them in his archiving folder.

He had barely finished watching as Egg retook his phone’s control just in time to show as he came, and pulled off to show Aemon his seed leaking out, when the in-app notification sound pinged. There was more, somehow, this time from Rhae’s account.

She was using her selfie stick again, and Aegon was on his knees at the edge of the desk he’s been fucking her on, pulling her panties off with his teeth. She had kicked off the other shoe, and Aegon had forgotten about the garter.

“That’s gonna snag on the other stocking,” he muttered, and sure enough, Egg only managed to take off one of her legs off her panties before groaning in frustration and pulling Rhaenys more to the edge of the desk, catching her by surprise and jostling the camera. The video cut there. It was as if they knew they had broken him

  
[Aems]   
I’m going home, before you two get me kicked out of the college library for public indecency, you fucking menaces.   
Pun intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading and see yall tomorrow owo


	29. Jon Snow/Aegon VI/Rhaenys Targaryen-Martell; sleepy sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some mornings are more eventful than others.

Waking up to the sensation of something sliding inside you while another swallows you up is a very unique experience Aemon thought not many people were privy to.

“G’morn’ng,” he mumbled, eyes still heavy from sleep.

Rhaenys just kissed him, and she must be as sleepy as he is, because she didn’t mind his morning breath and stale spit as much as she normally would.

“Morning, Aems,” Aegon chirped from behind him, though Aemon could still hear where he suppressed a yawn, as he thrusted lazily.

“‘M I dreamin’?” he asked, groggily, pushing back into Aegon, then thrusting into Rhaenys when she whined.

“Don’ wake m’ up if you are,” she grumbled, putting a leg over the two of them and pulling both boys towards her.

“I can’t fuck Aems like this, Rhae,” Egg complained, reaching all the way around Aemon to grab at her tits.

“Make do, ‘m sleepy ‘n jus’ wan’ somethin’ in,” she replied. Aemon nodded, because he could relate, but also, Egg’s cock moving in and out was so good too. “Jus’ don’ jostle me.”

He tried to not buckle into Egg too much, holding Rhae close so every time he did it wouldn’t jostle her, but he was sleepy, and it was so good, the neverending loop of pleasure to be found in the fucking and being fucked they were doing…

He knew, that just as Rhae was warming up to the idea of fucking and Egg was getting close, coming would just result in his siblings piling up to fuck on top of him. As long as they didn’t dislodge  _ his _ cock while doing it, they were welcome to be the first thing he saw properly as sleep left him slowly. It was always nice to wake up to the feeling of Egg’s dick nestled against his in Rhae’s cunt as she came, hard, on them, and the obscene knowledge that his and Egg’s seeds were now dripping onto his balls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank and see yall tomorrow!


	30. Jon Snow/Arianne Martell; boob worship(py)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh. no summary. im late af. sorry. enjoy.

Usually, people bowed to  _ him _ , but like this, in private, he bowed to  _ her _ .

Aemon knew Arianne delighted in the sense of absolute power she got in the bedroom with him. He was younger and terribly inexperienced, but he was eager, and the worst part was that she knew.

“Do you like what you see, Aems?” she asked, smirking. It wasn’t even said in any kind of seductive voice like Lady Margaery did when they met at Rhaenys’ birthday tourney, but Arianne had summoned him to her rooms at night, and her nightgown was sinfully  _ transparent _ . He could see every curve of her breasts like that. “Want to fuck my breasts instead of my cunt, little prince?”

He averted his eyes, looking away, face as red as the braided leather sash on his waist.

He was so busy looking away, he didn’t see when Arianne got closer, so when she put a hand on his face, Aemon almost jumped out of his skin.

“Come on, little cousin, you can touch them if you want to.” To punctuate, she grabbed one of his hands and put on her breast. He stood there, wide eyed and paralized, as she chuckled and undid the clasps of her gown, shrugging it off. The only thing between the garment and being completely on the floor was Aemon’s hand. “Take off your clothes too, Aems.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. But as soon as he was naked, he didn’t know what to do.

He just stood, blushing fiercely, and Arianne sighed, then took him by the hand to her bed.

“Is this your first time with a woman, Aems?” she asked, as they sat by the edge of her bed, her hand on his dark hair.

“Yes,” he said, lowly, as Arianne put one leg over his hips and pushed him down on the mattress.

“I haven’t been with a green boy since I was maiden myself,” she mused and Aemon swallowed, trying to shrink into the goose feathers underneath him. “Though, this is exciting, I never had to teach a boy how to fuck before.” She paused, and put his hands back on her breasts. “You can play with them, you know.”

“Oh-- okay,” he muttered, shyly, squeezing lightly. He couldn’t even look her in the eye when he asked, “hey, is it okay if I--?” Aemon didn’t even manage to finish his question. She laughed, as she grasped his cock and stroked lightly.

“You can touch me however you want, my prince,” she purred, leaning into him and biting at his ear softly. Her laughter was warm on his skin, making him flush harder and his cock jump in her hand.

He tentatively pushed one of her breasts into his mouth, kissing softly as Arianne’s breath hitched in surprise (and wasn’t that a surprise in itself).

“Do you like them, Aems?” She giggled, and Aemon didn’t reply, just continued kissing her breasts reverently even as he felt her cunt around his cock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh sorry abt the abrupt ending, i freaked myself out more writing this one than the other one that freaked me out.  
thanks for reading and HAPPY HALLOWEEN'S EVE.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> G O D IT'S THE E N D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS SHIT

He hated his siblings.

Sure, family tradition argued that, since they were close in age, they would marry, and sure, Aemon was agreeable to that, but he hated Egg and Rhae right now with a burning passion; he was  _ driving _ a  _ motor home _ in the  _ highway _ , for fuck’s sake. Like, literally. His siblings thought, because the windows were tinted, they could just… be filthy hedonists.

Aemon seethed in the driver’s seat, trying really hard not to look to the side, pretending Rhae’s moans didn’t affect him, as Egg bounced her on his cock.

“Hey, Aems, join us,” Egg said, breathless, and Aemon stubbornly kept his eyes either on the road or on the GPS screen.

“Fuck off, I didn’t learn how to drive trucks and buses just so you two can make me crash one of my birthday gifts,” he barked, annoyed. “It’s bad enough that you crashed my yacht, because I can’t trust either of you to not make bad decisions when driving anything larger than a car.”

“You can always park,” Rhae tried to say, but moaned half the words; an impressive feat, he’d say.

“We’re literally three hours out of Riverrun!” He protested. “Can’t you two hold it in your fucking pants until then?”

Aemon felt a hand on his thigh, and gripped the wheel tighter.

“Just pull over, Aems.” He knew his brother was smirking, he didn’t need to look at him to know. He stepped on the gas a little stronger than he meant to.

“Why don’t you two go fuck in the back? There’s plenty space  _ on the bed _ .”

“But it’s so lonely without our sour patch of a little brother,” Rhae said.

He had something witty to reply, but then he saw the headlights of something flash on his rearview.  _ Oh, great _ , he thought, as the red and blue lights of the police car glowed ominously.

“You two are  _ lucky _ I ever thought of having this RV made for more than one person,” he whined. “Please go to the back, I’m getting pulled over and I’m fairly sure it’s your faults.”

“Huh?” Aegon hummed, confusedly, kissing Rhae.

“I’m getting pulled over by the police, and I don’t think pulling rank will get us out of public indecency charges!” He yelled, thumping his fist on the wheel, almost hitting the horn, but succeeding in hitting the volume button, accidentally cranking his EDM to the max, making his siblings wince. Finally.  _ “Fucking go to the back!” _ He screamed over the bass thumping.

Egg and Rhae scrambled to the partition door between the cockpit and the trailer, but not before his sister threw her panties on his face. He shoved it in the glove compartment, before pulling over and grabbing his documents. Aegon had laughed that he chose to drive around with his circlet on, but his brother was currently vaulting over the backseats to help Rhaenys unlock the partition so they could hide in the safety of the trailer.  _ Amateurs. It has a fucking arrow pointing which way. _

He slid down the window, and then remembered he was too fucking far high for any of his dramatics to work, so he opened the door, adjusted his softening (thankfully) cock, and hopped off onto the first step, then the second, then on the asphalt, and sat on the lower step sulkingly, waiting for the policeman or -woman to walk over.

“Young man, do you know how fast you were going--” the middle-aged woman started, before taking a good look at Aemon. She narrowed her eyes, then pulled on her glasses. “Documents, please.”

He handed over without a fuss.

“I’m sorry about the speeding, my siblings were being annoying,” he muttered, kicking a pebble.

“Oh, Prince Aemon!” the woman exclaimed, eyes wide, doing a clumsy mix of curtsy and a bow, before handing him back his driver’s licence. “You were 10 miles above limit.”

She punched in the numbers into her ticket dispenser. Aemon spared an angry glance at the tinted window of the loft bed. A few seconds later, the kitchen window opened just slightly, and Aegon waved a white shirt through it like it was a truce flag.

“I hate being the sensible, responsible sibling,” he muttered, as he was handed the ticket.

“It happens in the best of families,” the policewoman said, sagely, and Aemon wanted to drown himself in the toilet at being overheard being the sulky teenager he was. “Just be more careful next time, my prince.” She curtsied with a bit more grace this time, and he looked at the ticket angrily, the one single stain in his otherwise pristine driving career.

“Thank you, officer…?” he almost asked. He forgot to look at the woman the entire time; he was too busy being annoyed at his siblings.

“Tully,” she finished for him. “Officer Roslin Tully.”

He wanted to scream internally. Of course the one time he’s pulled over, it’s by his cousin’s  _ aunt _ . Of course she wouldn’t be afraid of giving him a speeding ticket; she’s probably used to far worse from her nephew and niece, because Robb and Sansa have leaden feet.

“Thank you, Officer Tully,” he deadpanned, trying to keep his voice even when all he wanted was to scream.

“Do you need an escort to Riverrun, Your Grace?” She asked softly. “I know your cousins are going to be disappointed, they thought you were roughing it, with tents and everything.”

“That would be nice, Officer Tully,” he mumbled, loud enough for her to hear, ignoring the part where he would have to bear the brunt of Robb’s and Arya’s judging stares.  _ Sue me _ , he thought, _ I just needed an excuse to break out this baby, it hasn’t seen much mud since I got it three years ago _ .

She bowed again, and Aemon felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. His siblings weren’t the type to send messages when they could heckle him, so he knew it had to be his father, notifying him the ticket was coming out of his allowance. He expected nothing else, if he was being honest.

He tried not to slam the door, and closed the window at the same time, knowing full well who his siblings were. They wouldn’t put on clothes just because of little ol’ Aemon.

“We have an escort now,” he shouted at the partition door, revving the engine.

“Well, fuck, do you actually know who that policewoman was?” Rhaenys asked, clearly having pushed Aegon out of the way so she could claim shotgun. She was still shirtless and pantyless, but at least, with Aegon taking up the seat behind her, they weren’t going for more sibling torture. Even if she sat with a leg over the armrest and another on the dashboard.

“From hearsay,” he replied, turning the volume way down. “Egg, get me a soda, please. She’s Sansa’s uncle’s wife. Apparently before being commoners, the Freys were an actual noble house. I don’t remember anything in history lessons about a whole house being demoted, but like.” He shrugged.

“Why are we being escorted, anyway, isn’t this truck being monitored by the Kingsguard, and didn’t Jaime set up shop in Riverrun a week ago in preparation?” Egg asked, handing him the soda.

“Thanks. She offered.” He shrugged again. “Seemed impolite to refuse, even as mad as I was with you two.”

“Well, and what did you want to do that required staying parked?” Rhaenys sounded amused; he didn’t need to look at her to know she had a smarmy grin on her lips.

“I was gonna finish what you two started, but it seems a more appropriate use of my sibling wrath to just drive well within the speed limit and make you two wait until  _ nighttime _ .”

The oldest two groaned like spoiled younger siblings; not that Aemon knew how that felt like. Obviously. A yacht fitted for long travels and an offroad motorhome as sixteenth birthday gifts doesn’t make one a spoiled brat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway, this one WILL be back bc the plotbunnies ate me alive and also i promised one thing to a friend and wasn't able to fucking.......... do it.
> 
> thank u so much for sticking w me through 31 days of bad porn!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> (this is too close to my birthday already and i h a t e what they have for my birthday, every single one of the prompts are terrible w h y)
> 
> thank u for reading!  
find me on tumblr/twitter/insta (tho im not as active on those last two): [@kotturstjarna](http://kotturstjarna.tumblr.com) (link's tumblr only but that's my @ on the other two too)


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